


Requests

by Lint



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2018-09-25 17:57:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 30,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9836459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lint/pseuds/Lint
Summary: Just a collection of drabbles.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on tumblr.

**Anonymous asked: "wait a second, are you jealous?" for beronica :-)**

-

Archie toys with his last uneaten onion ring, idly spinning it around atop the plate, waiting patiently for Jughead to finish off his second burger. Betty and Veronica had just vacated the booth minutes ago, in fact he can still see their outlines just outside the window, slowly disappearing down the sidewalk and into the cover of night. Admittedly he's a little slow when it comes to girls, but something about the two of them seemed different tonight. Like they're sharing the world's juiciest secret, and no one else has the privilege to know.

 

Focus shifts back to Jughead, who has his last bite pinched between his thumb and index finger, waving it back and forth in front of Archie's face to get his attention.

 

“You didn't hear a word I said,” he sighs. “Did you?”

 

Archie's line of sight shoots to the window once more, the girls ultimately out of view, then returns to his friend who has finally popped that last bite into his mouth.

 

“Sorry, Jug.” He replies. “What were you saying?”

 

Jughead smirks, taking his time chewing, then washes down the remnants of beef with the remainder of his soda.

 

“Never mind,” he dismisses on the swallow. “Little distracted tonight, pal?”

 

“Kind of,” Archie admits. “Did uh, did anything seem different with Betty? Veronica too?”

 

One of Jughead's eyebrow arches.

 

“Different how?”

 

“I don't know,” Archie carries on, fingers tapping softly on the table. “Just... Different.”

 

Jughead slouches in his seat, hands clasping behind his head.

 

“You mean other than the fact they're dating?”

 

Archie only blinks at the statement.

 

“What?”

 

“Dating,” Jughead repeats. “Going steady. Betty is wearing Veronica's pin and any other metaphor you can think of.”

 

Archie is dumbfounded.

 

“Since when?”

 

“A couple weeks,” Jughead informs. “You seriously didn't know?”

 

“No,” he confesses. “Betty never said, and Ronnie she didn't, I mean wow. That's just...”

 

“Wait a second,” Jughead interrupts, quickly leaning forward. “Are you jealous?”

 

“N-no,” he stutters. “Of course not.”

 

“Because you had about a million chances,” Jughead goes on. “With either of them. And you never seemed willing to take a single one.”

 

“I didn't-”

 

“Besides,” Jughead continues through Archie's confusion. “Anyone with eyes could see how bad Veronica had it for Betty since she got here. Present company excluded, obviously.”

 

Archie stares down at the single, lonely, onion ring.

 

“Are they happy?”

 

“Well, the spectrum of human emotion is not exactly my area of expertise, but if I had to guess? Yeah, I'd say they're pretty happy.”

 

Archie nods.

 

“Betty and Veronica,” he mumbles softly, as if he still can't believe it.

 

“B&V forever,” Jughead replies completely serious.

 

/\

 

**Anonymous asked: "i didn't know where to go" for beronica <3**

-

Veronica sits on the sofa, remote in one hand, cell phone in the other. Neither object is providing much entertainment, and she's so bored the thought of actually starting that book Betty told her to read suddenly doesn't seem like a bad idea. Not that she isn't a fan of Toni Morrison, but the enthusiasm at which her friend thrust Song of Solomon into her hands, gave Veronica some serious pause. Like, what if she didn't enjoy it as much as Betty hoped? Will it open a discourse or just disappointment?

 

She's had the copy two weeks and hasn't touched it, skirting around the subject whenever it comes up, but sometimes she will stare down at the cover and thing of Betty's eyes lighting up when they got on the subject of literature and smile to herself.

 

An old fashioned telephone ring derails her train of thought, absently looking at the phone in her hand which hasn't lit up with an incoming call, and turning her head toward the office style land line monstrosity she's never actually touched since they moved in. Shifting in her seat to reach for the receiver, nothing happens when she says hello, it taking another second to realize she has to hit the button with a flashing red light.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Miss Veronica,” Smithers' voice calls through the ear piece. “I have a Betty Cooper here in the lobby, and she'd like to be let up.”

 

“Of course,” Veronica replies. “Send her up. Oh and Smithers? Betty has an open ended invitation, she can stop by anytime she wants.”

 

“Understood miss,” Smithers replies. “She's headed to the elevator now.”

 

“Thank you, Smithers.”

 

“Oh and miss?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Fair warning, she's rather disheveled and looks as if she may have been crying.”

 

Veronica feels her stomach turn uneasily.

 

“Thank you, Smithers,” she repeats.

 

“Very good miss,” he confirms and hangs up.

 

Veronica shoots over to the door instantly, pulling it open and craning her neck into the hall, waiting for the elevator to ding. When it does she pads down the plush carpet as fast as she can, unable to keep the shock from her face when Betty steps out of the elevator soaking wet.

 

“Betty!” She shouts. “Oh my god, what happened?”

 

Betty just stands there a moment, jaw chattering from the cold, with arms bunched into her sides.

 

“Come on,” Veronica says, gently grabbing her arm and guiding her back to the apartment. “It's raining out?” She continues. “I for one, am shocked you don't have three umbrellas at the ready.”

 

Betty attempts a laugh, but it comes out this odd sad noise, and Veronica's grip tightens around her instantly. Leading her to the kitchen, Veronica sits her in a chair, and tells Betty to hold on a second. She grabs a couple towels from the linen closet, wraps one around Betty's shoulders and standing at her back, uses the other to gently start drying her hair.

 

“What happened?” She asks again, voice heavy with concern.

 

Betty doesn't respond right away, just stares down at the floor, trying to hold back tears.

 

“My mom,” she finally answers, voice cracking. “We got into this huge fight, and I, I just...”

 

She turns her head to meet Veronica's eyes.

 

“I'm sorry to drop in on you like this,” she apologizes. “I didn't know where to go.”

 

Veronica leans down to wrap her arms around Betty's shoulders, unconcerned that she's still sopping wet, squeezing gently and pressing a soft kiss onto the blonde's cheek. Archie's is the first place Veronica would have thought she'd run to, but if you're trying to escape your overbearing nut job of a mother, the house next door probably isn't the best escape plan.

 

“We can talk about it,” Veronica offers. “Or not. Whatever you need, you got me. I'm here.”

 

Betty's hands lift to hold onto Veronica's arms, and for awhile they just that way in silence.

 

“Thank you,” Betty says after awhile.

 

Veronica kisses her cheek again.

 

“Anytime.”

 

/\

 

**Anonymous asked: "i'll help you study" for beronica bc i feel like you know where this is going**

-

There's a name for this kind of thing, she just can't remember what it is. When you excel in a particular area, but fail miserably in another, no matter how closely related they seem to be. Geometry is that foil to Veronica. Because she sure as hell can figure out any percentage, fraction, solve for x theorem in other branches of math. But for some reason, axioms, points, planes, and angles leave her somewhat lacking.

 

“I'll help you study,” Betty offers, because on top of everything else she's good at, math comes naturally to her as well. (She's the only sophomore in pre-calc, go figure.)

 

They lay side by side atop Veronica's bed, flat on their stomachs, with the textbook perched open before them. She has flashcards too, and Veronica can't even bring herself to ask when she had time to make them. She's got a pencil and a notebook on top of everything else, stating when it comes to math, it's better to go old school and scribble everything out.

 

“Okay, so we're looking for methods of proof,” Betty begins, flipping through the textbook, drawing out a few models in the notebook, making clear and concise points but to Veronica she might as well be speaking Japanese.

 

She tries to follow along, even sketches out a few pale copies of Betty's drawings, but it's just not clicking in her brain. It doesn't help that Betty's lipstick is kind of smudged, distracting Veronica in the way that she's slightly off put she wasn't the one to smudge it. She should be concentrating on the words not the lips that form them, but when she says things like naming of points and figures, or complementary and supplementary angles, Veronica can only gaze at Betty's mouth trying to keep herself from reaching out to touch.

 

Betty tells her to sketch a triangle sum theorem, which she attempts to do, but is instantly distracted when the blonde leans into her space to correct her mislabeling of the angles. Her hair smells like lilacs, and Veronica's lips brush the fragrant locks without even meaning to.

 

“Oh sorry,” Betty apologizes pulling back, but Veronica drops the pencil in hand to cup the other side of her face, and kiss the cheek just below her lips.

 

Betty instantly flushes crimson, but the smile on her face tells Veronica she doesn't really mind.

 

“What was that for?” She asks.

 

“Just a thank you,” Veronica replies. “You're always so helpful, and I want you to know I appreciate it.”

 

The smile stays firmly in place. It makes Veronica feel brave.

 

“Well, that's what friends do.”

 

Neither girl moves.

 

“Betty?” Veronica asks after a beat. “Don't you want to kiss me?”

 

When she does, Veronica's eyes flutter closed, finally getting to an angle she's interested in. The one where Betty's mouth shifts to meet hers, the sum of it equaling a flutter of her heart.

 

/\

 

**Anonymous asked: "the way you flirt is shameful" for beronica**

-

“Betty Cooper you are dangerous.”

 

Veronica practically hums as she says it, tone tinged with surprise and approval, her hands bunched up with Betty's bubble gum pink sweater between them. Pulling her down to kiss, despite already being on her tiptoes, forever the tea to the taller girl's tablespoon.

 

Something about the girl next door, being able to burglarize the house across the street should the moment ever present itself, as big a turn on as beauty or grace. B and V doing a b&e, so obvious but so cute just the same, she files it away to be delivered at an opportune time in the future.

 

“The way you flirt is shameful,” replies Betty, hushed and breathless, pausing only long enough to say the words before they're kissing again.

 

It's meant to be playful Veronica knows, Betty's humble attempt at a tease, and she takes it as such before nipping at the blonde's lips with her teeth and only pulling back when she gasps.

 

“Well, what's the purpose of flirting?” Veronica questions. “To let someone know you're interested.”

 

She kisses Betty deeply, reciprocated with such vigor, that she can't help but sigh with delight.

 

“Clearly am,” she continues, arms wrapping around Betty's neck. “What else?”

 

Betty leans in for more, but Veronica dodges her attempt, giving a Cheshire grin.

 

“To let someone know you're available.”

 

Their eyes lock onto each other.

 

“Here I am,” she states. “And here you are.”

 

Her fingers tease at Betty's skin.

 

“Is there anything more?”

 

Betty leans in once more, and again Veronica dodges.

 

“Ronnie,” Betty nearly begs.

 

“We flirt,” Veronica carries on. “To get what we want.”

 

Betty leans in quick, capturing Veronica's lips with her own.

 

“And you want me,” she says in all confidence.

 

Veronica's eyes gleam with mischief, her smile rueful.

 

“Oh Betty,” she teases. “Whatever gave you that idea?”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Anonymous asked: “Like, I don’t expect to ever have to take a bullet for you, but I would.” cause this feels very beronica-like**

-

“Who the hell are you to judge me, or my family?” Veronica says, folding her arms, oddly calm despite her seething anger.

 

Betty has seen this look before, seconds before she buried Cheryl under an iceberg of doubt, but

never thought it would crystallize again in the middle of Pop's. Directed at her mother, no less. Alice coming across them sharing a milkshake, unable to keep the snide comments to herself, especially with Hermione on shift.

 

She stands just behind Veronica, never having answered her mother's request that they make their way home, softly scratching at her arm and avoiding all eye contact.

 

“Yes, my dad is in jail. Because he made a mistake. One he's clearly paying for. But tell me, Mrs. Cooper, when are you going to start paying for yours?”

 

Betty bites the inside of her cheek, wanting so badly to see the look on her mother's face, but doesn't dare lift her head to see.

 

“Excuse me?” Alice replies incredulous.

 

Veronica takes a step forward, something Alice instantly retreats from.

 

“Where do I start?” She goes on. “Can't say I've head of too many mother's of the year sending their wayward daughters to some kind of troubled youth asylum, because they dated a boy she didn't approve of. Not outside of 1953, anyway.”

 

“That is none of your business,” Alice replies with a huff.

 

“But my father's incarceration is somehow yours?” Veronica replies easily. “How does that work?”

 

Betty does look up after that, wishing she could somehow snap a photo of her mother's open mouth and complete lack of response at getting her ass handed to her by a sixteen year old. She wants so badly just to laugh, but doesn't dare.

 

“It must be liberating,” Veronica carries on. “To truly not care what anyone in this town thinks of you. I mean, how could you possibly? Knowing, without a doubt, that every single citizen must loathe your very existence. For playing Nurse Ratched to one daughter, and mommy dearest to the other. Not to mention the nonstop judgment, gossip, and all around bitchiness on the daily.”

 

“Now you listen here,” Alice starts, but Veronica is not having it.

 

“There's your problem right there,” she interrupts. “Listening. For all your sensationalism, I seriously doubt you ever take a moment to just listen. To anything. Or anyone, for that matter. Maybe it's because you realize that, if you're quiet for even the tiniest of moments, all these shocking truths with eat you alive inside.”

 

Alice stands there stunned, for once in her adult life not having a rebuttal of any kind, sharpened and ready to fly off her tongue.

 

“Now if you don't mind, Mrs. Cooper. Your daughter and I had continual plans for this evening.”

 

Veronica reaches back for Betty's hand, entwining their fingers easily, and backs away from Alice without breaking eye contact.

 

“I'll try not to have her home too late,” she says in lieu of goodbye, tugging Betty along.

 

Once they're outside, with enough distance between them that Betty can no longer see the outline of her mother through the windows of Pop's, does she let out the laughter that struggled so much to stay internal.

 

“That was amazing,” she compliments. “You really knocked her down a peg.”

 

Veronica looks down at their hands, still together, and smiles softly.

 

“I get the feeling it's been a long time coming,” she admits. “Like everyone around her is afraid to face the wrath of a journalist scorned or something.”

 

“True,” Betty concedes. “She's still my mom and everything, but yeah, it was long overdue.”

 

She gently squeezes Veronica's hand.

 

“I think, I mean, I've been wanting to explode at her like that ever since she sent Polly away. I was off at my internship. She never even told me until I got home.”

 

Veronica squeezes back.

 

“That's awful.”

 

They walk a full block without saying a word.

 

“So,” Betty begins as they cross Maple Street. “Like, I don't expect to ever have to take a bullet for you. But I would.”

 

Veronica stops them both in the middle of the crosswalk, pulling Betty down to kiss, soft and sweet.

 

“You say the most romantic things,” she teases.

 

Betty smiles brightly, leaning down to kiss her again.

 

“What can I say? I'm hopeless with that kind of stuff.”

 

/\

 

**Anonymous asked: “The skirt is short on purpose.” for B &V because I'm curious to see what you do with this**

-

“I'm going out,” Veronica announces, crossing the living room. “Be back later.”

 

One twist of the knob, and a door barely open when she's called back, Hermione Lodge sitting on the couch with tablet in hand looking expectantly at her daughter.

 

“Going where?” She inquires.

 

“Just to Pop's,” Veronica replies, eyes narrowing. “With Betty.”

 

“To Pop's,” Hermione repeats. “With Betty. Dressed like that?”

 

Veronica looks down at her outfit, momentarily confused.

 

“The skirt is short on purpose.”

 

Hermione chuckles softly to herself.

 

“I only meant, you seem a bit dressed up for milkshakes in a diner.”

 

“Am I?” Veronica asks, swinging her hips to and fro.

 

“That's date night attire,” Hermione confirms. “If I've ever seen it.”

 

A small ping echoes in Veronica's stomach, and she hopes her mother can't see the blush forming on her cheeks.

 

“It's not like that,” she insists. “Just Pop's. Fried food and gobs of whipped cream.”

 

Hermione's gaze focuses knowingly.

 

“Are we going to have another Cassie Sinclair situation to deal with?” she asks.

 

Definitely can see her blushing, though now out of anger and embarrassment.

 

“St. Claire,” she corrects. “Cassie St. Claire, and no, this isn't going to be like that.”

 

“How do you know?”

 

“Because,” Veronica retorts. “Cassie was just trying to get something from her ultra conservative father. Attention, grief, I don't know. It was nothing more than a ploy.”

 

Hermione continues to look concerned.

 

“Mija, if that were true, you wouldn't have been so upset when it ended. You wouldn't have done all those things that got you suspended from the academy.”

 

Veronica suddenly finds her shoes the most interesting thing in the room.

 

“Yeah well,” she begins, shuffling her feet. “I may have caught feelings before realizing it.”

 

“Forgive me for worrying, honey. But you've dated a dozen different boys, and just three girls. Only they were the ones that seemed to end badly.”

 

Veronica doesn't know what to say to that.

 

“It's also telling,” she continues on. “That they were all blonde.”

 

“Were they?”

 

Hermione nods in confirmation.

 

“I think you have a type. As well as a tenacity for getting your heart broken.”

 

Veronica sighs.

 

“But it's different this time, mom. Really.”

 

“How so?”

 

“Because Betty and I are friends,” she answers with a smile. “As pathetic as this sounds, she may actually be my first real friend. Besides that, she's just so...”

 

“So?”

 

“Sweet,” Veronica gushes. “And good. Kind, and-”

 

She stops herself from saying pure. The more she gets to know Betty, the less that word seems to apply. There's a darkness hidden under that bright light, only noticeable to someone really paying attention, and Veronica is nothing if not observant.

 

“That sounds like you want to be more than friends,” Hermione comments.

 

Veronica shrugs.

 

“If it happens,” she replies evenly. “It happens.”

 

A single brow lifts in suspicion to Hermione's forehead.

 

“Is dressing like a knockout your way of keeping it casual?”

 

Veronica smiles.

 

“There is nothing wrong with tilting the odds in your favor.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Anonymous asked: "The carnival's in town!" for Betty and Veronica because who doesn't love small-town carnival shenanigans?**

-

 

“Is that something people do?” Veronica asks off Betty's exuberance.

 

Yes, she knows what a carnival is, though there were absolutely zero to experience for herself in New York. (There is that yearly one in Brooklyn, but somehow she realizes it's completely different from what Betty is so excited about.)

 

“Yes!” Betty exclaims, grabbing Veronica's hands. “Oh, V. It's so much fun, you'll love it. I promise.”

 

Veronica has no doubt fun will be had, but how much of it will actually be on her behalf is left open for discussion.

 

Next thing she knows, Betty is dragging her by the hand down the thoroughfare, with so much energy bubbling out Veronica is seriously worried she just may burst. The blonde's free hand has not stopped pointing at every little thing that gets her attention. Whether it be the unappetizing amount of deep fried food, being sold from booths Veronica wouldn't deign to touch with a pair of gloves, or the rickety rides that look one loose bolt from utter collapse.

 

She's especially keen to play games, which can be clearly taken for a scam the second you hear the carnie's spiel about winning a prize. Not that Veronica needs a goldfish. (She doesn't get one, none of the ping pong balls they toss land with any sort of accuracy.) Or a cheap SpongeBob knock off the size of a couch cushion. (They don't win that either, both of their water guns predictably losing pressure once the balloon atop the clown's head begins to look full.)

 

Veronica does begin to feel guilty, because she's not having a particularly good time, wasting what little money she has on games that don't pay out, rides that feel they'll lead to some kind of grievous personal injury, and food that sits like a brick at the bottom of her stomach.

 

Betty picks up on this about an hour in, her bottom lip beginning to jut out slightly that her enthusiasm is not matched, and Veronica curses herself for turning that smile into a pout.

 

“This really isn't your thing, is it?” Betty asks.

 

Veronica looks down at the corn dog in her hand, which she'd taken a cursory bite of and not gone back for another, the mustard stripe spread alongside a color she would never associate with the condiment.

 

“What?” She replies. “No, this is... Great.”

 

Betty shakes her head, but Veronica does notice a smirk.

 

“You can take the girl out of New York City,” Betty tuts, reaching for Veronica's free hand again. “Come on. I know one thing you might enjoy.”

 

The Ferris wheel looks terrifying. That's all Veronica can think as they wait their turn, hearing the rusty metal grind its way in a circle, the operator that's missing a thumb on one hand, and two fingers on the other.

 

Once inside their gondola, with Betty pressed into her side so snug, Veronica almost forgets this death machine just might take her life. It doesn't stop her from gripping the lap bar so tight her knuckles go white, something Betty notices, and bumps her shoulder.

 

“I appreciate the effort, B.” Veronica states, staring down at her hands. “But I think you may have me wrong on this.”

 

“Just wait,” Betty replies enigmatically.

 

Wait for what? Veronica can't help but think. To plunge to our deaths?

 

Suddenly the wheel stops, when they're fifty feet in the air, the little gondola swinging from the halt. Veronica gasps in surprise, and Betty just laughs, covering one of V's white knuckled hands with her own.

 

“Look,” she insists gently, nudging Veronica's shoulder again.

 

Riverdale is a town of lights, cascading across the hills, and bending with the river. It's a picture that could sell a thousand postcards. So calm and serene. The kind of outside view Mayor McCoy would insist is the heart of small town Americana.

 

Her mouth must have dropped open, because suddenly Betty is closing it playfully, her little laugh self indulgent in the fact that she did indeed find something here Veronica could appreciate.

 

“This was always my favorite part of the carnival,” Betty admits. “A view of the town so few people get to see, or appreciate if they do. Polly and I, it was tradition. Play games. Eat terrible food, and-”

 

“Ride the Ferris wheel,” Veronica finishes.

 

“Yeah.”

 

Veronica sighs.

 

“I'm a terrible friend.”

 

“No, Ronnie,” Betty says softly. “You're a great friend. One of my best.”

 

That gives Veronica a curious look.

 

“One of?”

 

Betty looks back to the view.

 

“Archie is always going to be there,” she replies. “If you don't mind sharing.”

 

Normally she'd say yes. Veronica Lodge is not big on sharing, because she's never had to. The world was hers for the taking, and took it she did. Even if she made a pact with herself about being a better person, there's still a selfish part of her that wants Betty all to herself.

 

When she reaches up to Betty's cheek, pulling the blonde's attention back to her, Veronica kisses those pretty pink lips because she knows it is one thing she'll never have to share with the redheaded boy next door.

 

When Betty kisses back, Veronica decides that carnivals just may be her thing after all.

 

/\

 

**Anonymous asked: “You’ve got that whole drunken-sway thing going on.” Drunken times w B &V?!**

-

“There's my girl,” Veronica says serenely, her eyes glassy but pleased when Betty offers a hand to help her up. She doesn't take it, instead patting the spot of floor next to her. “Not yet. The room is still spinning.”

 

Betty sighs, but takes the spot, her back sliding down the ornate wood paneling that lines the Blossom's grand hallway.

 

“How much have you had?” She asks.

 

Veronica turns to her, a dopey smile on her lips.

 

“More than a couple,” she admits. “Less than a dozen.”

 

Betty glances around the hall, not quite sure what section of the house they're in, the mansion so much bigger on the inside than it looks from the out.

 

“You know getting drunk at Thornhill can be dangerous,” Betty begins. “They could trap you in the basement, dismember your body, then bury you in an unmarked grave out in their own private cemetery.”

 

Veronica looks appalled at the possibility.

 

“Whoa, whoa Nancy Drew,” she admonishes. “Letting Stephen King write your backlog all of a sudden?”

 

“Just saying.”

 

“Saying what exactly?”

 

Veronica invades Betty's space as she says it, her breath tinged with gin, so close the blonde has to turn her head away.

 

“Nothing,” Betty deflects. “Just forget I said it.”

 

Veronica doesn't move away, and Betty can feel the intensity of her drunken stare all across her skin.

 

“Betty,” she begins softly.

 

“Don't.”

 

“But-”

 

Betty's attention is still focused in the opposite direction, but she knows the look in Veronica's eyes, how much she wants to confess her feelings. How she's only brave enough to do so in the worst possible situations.

 

“Why is it you only tell me you love me,” she starts, still staring across the hall. “When you're drunk or sad?”

 

Veronica's chin drops to Betty's shoulder, her arms moving to awkwardly wrap around the blonde, taking small victory in the fact that she's allowed to.

 

“Because you only listen,” she confesses. “When I'm drunk or sad.”

 

“That's not-” Betty tries to say, turning toward Veronica, but is cut off quickly with a kiss. One she has no problem returning for a few moments until her conscious kicks in.

 

“No,” she denies, pulling away. “Not like this. Not when you've got that drunken-sway thing going on.”

 

Veronica looks so sad at the dismissal, her eyes immediately dropping to her hands, shifting away from Betty and falling back against the wall.

 

“I'm sorry,” she offers.

 

They're quiet a moment, listening to the thumping beat of the party downstairs through the floorboards.

 

“V,” Betty initiates once the moment has passed. “Do you love me? I mean, really. Are you in love with me?”

 

The question weighs heavy on Veronica's alcohol afflicted brain, because drunk or not, she knows the answer. Has known it from the day she got to Riverdale, and saw the most beautiful girl in world, smiling from a booth in a Chok'lit Shoppe.

 

“Yes,” falls clumsy from her lips.

 

Betty still isn't looking at her. Veronica doesn't know what to do with that.

 

“Is that why you and Cheryl were dancing so close?” Betty wonders aloud.

 

Veronica is stung.

 

“That was just-”

 

“Just what?”

 

“Dancing. Cheryl doesn't, I mean she isn't... That way.”

 

“What way?”

 

Veronica contemplates a moment.

 

“Curious,” she states. “Not even a little. Full disclosure, she probably noticed you looking at us, and started dirty dancing just to spite you.”

 

“You didn't seem to have a problem going along with it.”

 

Veronica can't help but feel a little stung at that.

 

“I was drunk,” she states. “I am drunk. Besides, it's not as if you-”

 

“If I, what?”

 

Veronica reaches to Betty's chin, pulling her attention to finally focus on her.

 

“Feel the same,” she finishes. “Or do you? If that's what this passive aggressive little conversation is about.”

 

Betty tries to pull away, but Veronica holds firm.

 

“I might,” she admits.

 

“Might what?”

 

“Have feelings. For you.”

 

“Yeah?” Veronica questions. “What are you going to do about it?”

 

/\

 

**Anonymous asked: “I don’t call you my partner in crime for no reason.” for beronica <3**

-

“So what is this place?” Veronica asks, eyes darting around them every which way. “And why are we here?”

 

It's a sketchy part of town, at least Veronica assumes it is, if the infrastructure of Riverdale can't be bothered to light the way among certain streets they must not be worth going down, and the last streetlight she'd seen was nearly ten minutes ago.

 

“It's a surprise,” Betty replies, stopping abruptly and a door Veronica hadn't noticed.

 

Veronica doesn't like the sound of that. Surprises should be good things. Jewelry. Birthdays. Daddy dropping plane tickets to Saint-Tropez on her bed last year. Pretty things. Nice things. Not abandoned buildings in the middle of nowhere.

 

“Are you a witch?” Veronica asks. “Did you bring me here for a sacrifice to some pagan god that hasn't been worshiped in nearly five hundred years?”

 

Betty's head turns at that one, the shock of such a suggestion clear in her wide eyes and dropped jaw.

 

“God Ronnie,” she admonishes. “No. Just, no.”

 

Reaching into her pocket, she pulls out a few picks, then turns her attention to the doorknob.

 

“You break into buildings too?” Veronica gasps. “What am I, your lookout?”

 

Betty laughs to herself.

 

“Well, I don't call you my partner in crime for no reason.”

 

Veronica is not amused.

 

“That's an expression!” She retorts. “Like best friends forever, and gal pals ride or die. You really want me to be an accessory to a crime?”

 

Betty glances back to her.

 

“Wouldn't be the first time.”

 

Veronica throws her hands up.

 

“So not the point.”

 

The lock clicks, and Betty smiles to herself.

 

“I am not going in there,” Veronica insists.

 

“Better in there,” Betty replies with an arched eyebrow and extended hand. “Than out here.”

 

Veronica stares at that hand a moment, glancing quickly behind her, before accepting it and being pulled inside. It's as pitch black on the interior as it is outside, but the faint scent of flowers hangs in the air, further confusing the brunette to the nature of this place.

 

“Is this another one of your evidence collecting missions?” Veronica asks as they cut their way through the dark with the flashlight app on Betty's phone, avoiding the random shapes of unused machinery. “If so, why isn't Jughead here with you?”

 

The scent of flowers is getting stronger, and Veronica's heart beats uncomfortably with the whole situation. Damn Betty Cooper and her pretty, pretty face. Batting those eyelashes and getting Veronica to do, pretty much, whatever she wants. Her eyes are finally adjusting when she notices a faint glow just ahead, floating above them, which makes her stop dead.

 

“You are sacrificing me,” she touts, tugging on Betty's hand. “This is some crazy cannibal meat locker, isn't it?”

 

Betty bursts out laughing, which only further derails Veronica's mood.

 

“Do you trust me?” Betty asks, then repeats when she doesn't get an answer.

 

“Yes,” Veronica admits quietly. “But I am seriously beginning to question why.”

 

She lets Betty pull her toward to the glow, flowers filling the otherwise stale air even stronger the closer they get, and she can't help the gasp that escapes her when it is finally revealed what all the fuss has been about. Roses and lilacs circle what appears to be a mattress on the floor, covered in a red quilt, with candles flickering all around.

 

For a moment Veronica can't be sure of what she's seeing, the whole thing making absolutely no sense, but when it finally dawns on her it still doesn't mean she comprehends the full intent.

 

“Betty?” Veronica inquires. “Did you make us a love nest in the middle of some creepy, abandoned factory?”

 

The blonde smiles uncomfortably at the question, as if she only now realizes this might not have been her best idea ever.

 

“I might have,” she admits. “I mean, your mom keeps really weird hours, we're always getting interrupted, and it's not like we can ever have private time at my house. So when Jughead and I found this place, and it was clear no one ever came here, I just thought...”

 

Veronica gives Betty hand a little squeeze.

 

“Okay first,” she begins, still staring down at the mattress. “You will never be a real estate broker, because girl, everything is location location location.”

 

Betty giggles.

 

“Second, we are fooling around on that bed only because you clearly put a lot of effort into this, but I'm setting a thirty minute limit. No way am I pressing my luck for getting murdered in the case of the maniacal night watchman, for a little foreplay with my girl.”

 

“And third?” Betty wonders aloud.

 

Veronica pulls her into a kiss, guiding them down to the surprisingly soft mattress, instantly pleased with the feel of Betty's weight on top of her.

 

“I don't have a third,” she says between kisses.

 

Betty smiles against her.

 

“So thirty minutes starting now?”

 

Veronica nods, bringing her hands up to Betty's face.

 

“You're on the clock, Cooper.” She challenges. “Better make this worth my while.”

 

/\

 

**anonymous  asked: "Your bedhead is really cute." for beronica :P**

-

Sunlight peeks through a part in the curtains, slashing across the bed, and onto Betty's face which pinches in retreat. A low groan pushes past her lips, one hand lifting to her eyes, as if it were possible to rub the sun away. One eye peers cautiously open, the scene before her slowly coming into focus.

 

This is not her bed, the first thing she notices. Not alone either, the second. The beam of light cuts across the top of Veronica's hair, just missing her eyes, the girl fortunate enough to still be fast asleep. A small moment of panic flares up inside, when she realizes her complete lack of pajamas, or clothing of any kind.

 

It only exacerbates when Veronica's bare shoulder, poking out from beneath the bed sheet, catches her attention. The flush to her cheeks is immediate, automatically pulling said sheet up to her neck, wondering desperately if her clothes are even within reach.

 

She remains unmoved after a beat or two, willing her inner bravery to build up so that she can prance naked around the room for her clothes, without an overwhelming sense of shame. A leg barely shifts when Veronica's eyes snap open, sleepy and unfocused, though she recognizes Betty instantly and smiles.

 

“Morning,” she offers groggily.

 

“Morning,” Betty replies automatically.

 

“Planning your escape already?”

 

“Uh,” Betty drawls, elongating the vowel for a couple seconds. “At the very least, I was just going to find my underwear and put it back on.”

 

Veronica's gaze suddenly intensifies.

 

“Why would you ever want to do that?” she asks.

 

“Because it's morning?” Betty replies for lack of a better one. “People get dressed in the morning, don't they?”

 

“Not right away,” Veronica counters. “Especially on Saturdays.”

 

Betty doesn't have an answer for that.

 

“Unless there's a modesty issue,” Veronica carries on. “Which I don't believe was discussed.”

 

Betty flushes crimson for the second time in minutes, it spreading rapidly from her cheeks down the neck, and across her chest.

 

Veronica smirks playfully.

 

“No need to be shy now,” she teases. “I've already seen you naked.”

 

Betty sighs in embarrassment, her head dropping back down to the pillow.

 

“You don't,” Veronica begins, somewhat abashed. “You don't regret last night, do you?”

 

“No!” Betty is quick to deny. “Not at all.”

 

She reaches out to stroke Veronica's cheek.

 

“Really,” she insists. “It was, I mean you were, we...”

 

“What?”

 

“I don't know where to go from here,” Betty admits. “I've never... You're my first.”

 

“Girl?”

 

Betty shakes her head.

 

“Everything.”

 

“Oh,” is Veronica's only response. Talk about another subject that has never come up. “ _Oh._ ”

 

“So I guess I'm freaking out a little,” Betty goes on. “Like, was this a one time thing? Or are we going to date now? I mean...”

 

Veronica's hand moves under Betty's chin, thumb gently stroking.

 

“Do you need those answers right away?” She wonders.

 

Betty's eyes widen. She honestly doesn't know.

 

“Because I would like it to be more than a one time thing,” Veronica assures. “And I would be so lucky to call you my girlfriend. But we don't have to make any decisions right away. We can just enjoy this.”

 

She leans into Betty for a lingering kiss.

 

“Whatever it is, for now.”

 

Betty's eyes remain closed, still bewildered from Veronica's lips.

 

“Okay,” she agrees.

 

Veronica kisses her again, and again, to where they lose track of time for a little while. When they finally pull apart, there's a bemused look on Betty's face, as she reaches over to tousle Veronica's hair.

 

“Your bedhead is really cute, by the way.”

 

Veronica laughs.

 

“Honey, my everything is cute.”

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Anonymous asked: "Looks like you've made up your mind." for beronica :-)**

-

“Hold on,” Alice asks, as Betty is about to open the door. “Where do you think you're going?”

 

Betty sighs, her hand still on the knob, bracing herself a moment before turning to face her mother with a practiced smile.

 

“To the movies,” she answers with her hands folded in front of her. “With Veronica.”

 

Alice looks less than pleased with the answer, head immediately tilting as her eyes narrow.

 

“You know how I feel about the Lodge's,” she says coldly.

 

“Yes, mom.” Betty agrees. “You've made that abundantly clear.”

 

“And yet,” She begins, taking a step forward. “You continually choose to ignore my feelings. Why is that?”

 

Because they're crazy, Betty doesn't say. You're crazy, and not just in a dismissive term. Cold, jealous, vindictive. It's a strange thing, to still feel a certain way about your mother, and still recognize the many telling faults associated with her.

 

“Because she's my friend.”

 

Sometimes Betty wonders, what world her mother actually lives in. Because it never seems to coincide with the one everyone else does. She acts as if everyone and everything has a very specific mold to fill, and can't help but lash out whenever someone leaks past their lines. The look on Alice Cooper's face when her daughter refers to Veronica Lodge as a friend, is one of those times.

 

“How could she possibly be?” Alice asks, nearly throwing up her hands. “People like her, her mother, they look down on people like us. Thinking they're so much better than-”

 

“Do you hear yourself?” Betty interrupts. “When you talk like that? Give me one instance, where Veronica has ever looked down her nose at me. Hasn't defended me. Hasn't treated me like I bring the sun, sometimes.”

 

Alice opens her mouth, no doubt trying to come up something, anything to prove her point. Betty can't help but feel a little smug, watching her mother's lips snap shut, nothing there to grasp.

“She makes me happy, mom. Shouldn't that be important to you? Your own child's happiness?”

 

“Or course it is,” Alice seethes. “How could you even say that?”

 

“Because everything you ever do seems to point to the complete opposite!” Betty shouts. “I mean, where does this come from?” she suddenly feels brave enough to ask. “Have to Lodge's done something, to you? I mean really, personally done something. To you.”

 

She sees something flash across her mother's eyes, a cold bitter pain that must run deep, and instantly regrets ever asking the question. There is something there, though Betty knows it has absolutely nothing to do with Veronica herself, it doesn't take a intuitive leap to realize it must fall with Hermione.

 

“You know what,” she dismisses. “Never mind. It doesn't matter. Veronica is my friend, mom. One of my best. We're going to keep hanging out, whether you approve or not.”

 

Betty leaves out the part where it's grown to more than friendship. All the kisses, hand holding, and feelings she's never felt before. The way Veronica looks at her as if she's the most beautiful girl in the world. How, whenever the brunette holds her close, she actually believes it.

 

Luck must be on her side, when it seems like Alice does not want to carry on the argument, a simple folding of her arms indicative the fight is done.

 

“Looks like you've made up your mind,” is her mother's only reply.

 

Betty takes that for the victory, hollow as it is, and makes her way out the door.

 

/\

 

**Anonymous asked: “Let’s find out just how deep your betrayal runs, shall we?” for b &v, a little challenge for you**

-

The click of her heels echo along the empty hall, Veronica checking her phone with the right hand, and balancing a handbag in the crook of her elbow on the left. There's a stream of messages from Cheryl, twenty-three sent in the span in five minutes to be exact, all with various punctuation and hashtags even though they're completely unnecessary in texts.

 

Veronica reads through half of them, still not quite understanding the urgency, or exact motivation behind their sending, when she's suddenly grabbed by the arm and pulled swiftly to her right. Her shoes slide along the linoleum, a surprised yelp escaping her throat, the hand on her arm quickly shifting to her shoulders and somehow keep her from falling flat on her ass.

 

“Betty?” she questions, once her balance settles, the small of her back pressed into an edge of a desk. “What the hell?”

 

The blonde smooths out the wrinkles she'd caused on Veronica's dress, hands rigid and rough, as they move to hold onto the brunette's arms once she's satisfied.

 

“You missed lunch,” she offers candidly.

 

“Okay,” Veronica replies, eyes narrowing. “I mean, yeah. Blossom drama. I know you want no part of that if it doesn't have to do with Polly.”

 

Betty's thumbs stroke idly along the skin of Veronica's arm, head tilted down with a very stern look. It's so unexpected, Veronica swallows dryly to keep herself from gasping.

 

“We had a date,” Betty continues. “Which you missed. No message. No apology. No anything.”

 

Veronica's head tilts back momentarily forgetting just how much taller Betty is, her back still pinched against the desk, the blonde's size and weight keeping her there.

 

“I-I,” she stutters, now recognizing the situation. “I'm sorry.”

 

The skip in speech brings a thin smile to Betty's face, her hands still on Veronica's arms, suddenly lifting so that she's able to sit on the desk rather than be pinned against it.

 

“How sorry?” Betty asks, tone tinged in warning, inserting herself between Veronica's legs.

 

“Very,” Veronica insists. “So very sorry.”

 

Betty's hands drift down the length of Veronica's arms, pausing to pull the phone and handbag away, before letting her fingers dance playfully atop the brunette's legs. Veronica's toes curl inside her heels, breath hitching with the tease of contact, and gasping again when Betty's hands slide under knees to pull her that much closer.

 

“Funny,” she replies. “You don't look very sorry.”

 

One hands lifts to under Veronica's chin, holding firm.

 

“No,” she goes on. “You look fully compliant in your failure.”

 

Veronica's heart beats loudly inside her chest, having not been prepared for this side of Betty to come tumbling out, with just the right kind of tough.

 

“I-I'm sorry,” she offers sincerely. “For failing you.”

 

Betty smiles again, letting the hand still perched under Veronica's knee to wander up her thigh.

 

“And how did you fail me?”

 

Veronica's eyes fall closed, the sensation of Betty's fingers causing her to bite her lip and keep the sounds from escaping her throat.

 

“I didn't keep our date,” she admits. “I didn't let you know I wasn't coming.”

 

Betty leans to Veronica's right.

 

“All true,” Betty says into her ear, taking a playful nip. “But you're leaving out the most important part.”

 

“I,” Veronica begins, the words getting caught when Betty's hands drop to her throat. “I don't-”  


“You failed to please me,” Betty finishes. “And we can't have that, now can we?”

 

Betty presses a kiss against the pulse point.

 

“I have a feeling you've forgotten many things today,” she cautions, the hand on Veronica's thigh finally slipping underneath her skirt. “Let's find out just how deep your betrayal runs, shall we?”

 

Veronica inhales sharply when Betty's fingers tease alongside her, followed by a low groan when they're just as quickly taken away.

 

“Oh Ronnie,” Betty sighs in disappointment. “What have I told you about wearing panties?”

 

“Please,” Veronica begs.

 

“What have I told you?” she repeats.

 

Veronica crosses her legs around the back of Betty's.

 

“Never unless you want me to.”

 

“And did I ask you to?”

 

Veronica doesn't answer.

 

“Did I,” Betty growls kissing her roughly, taking Veronica's lower lip with her teeth before pulling back. “Ask?”

 

“No.”

 

“No,” Betty confirms. “I did not.”

 

She leans down to press her forehead against Veronica's, for a moment just contemplating.

 

“You wicked girl,” she begins after a beat. “What am I going to do with you now?”

 

/\

 

**Anonymous asked: “Just admit that you enjoy having me around.” beronica <3**

-

Betty walks through the halls with tired eyes, backpack slung over one shoulder, doing a zombie walk straight toward her locker. Another late night at the Blue and Gold, doing nearly all the work but write Jughead's articles, yet still being the one to edit them. Then another lovely dinner in near silence at home, leading into two and a half hours worth of honors homework. Follow that up by being awake until almost three in the morning because she couldn't shut off her brain about all the things she had to do the next day.

 

She's so tired the locker combination becomes kind of an issue. 26-34-17. No, wait. 34-17-26. Not that either. Groaning loudly, she offers a weak open handed slap against the metal, then jumping when Veronica suddenly appears at her side.

 

“Uh, Betty,” she begins, offering a coffee cup her way.

 

“Just having a slight issue,” Betty mutters, ignoring the cup. 17-26-34, that's it. Nope. Stupid thing still won't budge.

 

“Betty,” Veronica repeats.

 

“It's fine,” Betty replies automatically. “Not a big thing, really. I guess I'll just go without my history book today.”

 

“Hey,” Veronica pushes, nudging the cup toward her once again. “Take it. Looks like you could use it.”

 

Betty looks down at the coffee, before yawning and taking it from Veronica's hand.

 

“Thanks.”

 

“Another late night?” Veronica asks, taking a sip of her own.

 

“Yeah,” Betty answers. “But you know what they say, those who work hardest, burn brightest.”

 

Veronica's brows pinch together over the top of her drink.

 

“I have never heard that expression,” she dismisses quickly. “You're looking like those who work hardest, burn out fastest.”

 

“I'm okay.”

 

“Sure you are,” Veronica agrees. “So okay you spent the last two minutes trying to open a locker that isn't yours.”

 

“What?”

 

“You're 216,” Veronica continues, pointing up at the number plate. “That's 219.”

 

Betty looks up to verify and, _oh._

 

Her head tilts to rest on the cool metal surface, shoulders slumping with exhaustion.

 

“Come on,” Veronica says, using her free hand to grab Betty's hand. “I'm taking you home.”

 

Betty doesn't budge.

 

“I can't,” she replies. “There's too much-”

 

“You do enough,” Veronica interrupts. “One sick day isn't going to affect your college transcripts.”

 

Betty sighs. “Okay.”

 

“She said reluctantly,” Veronica remarks. “Like there was another option available.”

 

Betty turns to Veronica with a shy smile.

 

“Come on, sleepyhead,” Veronica continues, tugging her along. “Drink your coffee and follow me.”

 

Betty lets herself be pulled.

 

“So bossy,” she retorts.

 

Veronica grins.

 

“Just admit that you enjoy having me around.”

 

“Somehow I do,” Betty agrees, then softer. “Thanks, Ronnie.”

 

"Anything for my girl." 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Anonymous asked: "You can't keep doing this to me." For beronica.**

-

Every time, Veronica tells herself, will be the last.

 

But temptation always seems to taunt, with its naughty fingers enticing her toward this, making her a liar again and again. Her wrists are crossed behind Betty's neck, the taller girl's hands held possessively on her hips, as they kiss and kiss and kiss.

 

Fool, Veronica calls herself. Idiot. Sap. Careful to add lovesick before each and every insult. The last girl she'd felt such a pull toward, had left her heartbroken and humiliated. Betty, however, would never. Though she does break Veronica's heart, a little piece each time they hook up like this, it isn't malicious. Never vicious. Just sickly sweet kisses Veronica loses herself in every time their lips meet.

 

She scrambles back a little, as Betty presses into her, balance faltering when her eyes are closed. She laughs briefly with the shift, can feel Betty's smile against her, swoons vividly with the sensation of it as a small sighs escapes her.

 

Laughs again, when Betty breaks from her lips, sending shivers down Veronica's spine as she kisses her way along the jaw and down her neck nipping gently at the pulse point. Veronica gasps at the feeling, arms automatically tightening around Betty's neck, whose response is press a whisper soft kiss where her teeth had left a mark.

 

“Ronnie,” Betty coos into her ear. “Baby.”

 

Veronica's toes curl inside her heels. There's the trigger. A simple two syllable word letting her know any doubt Betty may have about their burgeoning physical intimacy, has faded away the more heated they become.

 

The catch is, this time, it sparks a hesitation inside Veronica's own mind. She wants more than this, random hook ups when no one is watching. Ones they never discuss pre or post, just letting them happen whenever the opportunity presents itself.

 

“You can't keep doing this to me,” fumbles past her lips, just as Betty's hands slip between her skirt and top, to tantalize along the skin.

 

“What?” Betty questions in a hush.

 

“Build me up,” she continues. “Just to let me down.”

 

Betty stops so suddenly, still pressed into the crook of Veronica's neck, that the brunette's eyes snap open to see nothing but the ceiling. Their embrace is still intact, though now stiff and awkward, as neither are quite sure how to proceed from the record scratch moment.

 

“Do you want to stop?” Betty asks after a beat.

 

No, Veronica thinks. Not now. Not ever. She wants this to keep going on, as long as it can, as long as Betty will have her. But that, her mind continues to process, is the rub. She wants more. Always more. To hold Betty's had when the walk through the halls. To never have to hide their affections from anything or anyone. She wants to seize being in love with the sweetest, kindest, most beautiful person she has ever met. She doesn't want to be hidden in the shadows, a fun but innocent romp into teenage curiosity. She doesn't want to be her best friend's dirty little secret.

 

“I want you,” Veronica replies. “All of you. All the time.”

 

Betty's hands recede from under Veronica's top, pausing on her hips where they had started and lifts her head, keeping their cheeks pressed together to avoid all eye contact.

 

“Ronnie,” she says simply, but leaves it hanging there, having nothing to follow up with.

 

“I'm in love with you,” Veronica presses. “And you know that. I mean, how could you not?”

 

Betty doesn't answer.

 

“And we do this, whatever it is, over and over and over. Never talk about it. Never delve into any possible reason why we just can't seem to keep our hands off each other. It happens, and then it's like it never happened. Until the next time.”

 

Still, Betty remains silent.

 

“Say something,” Veronica implores, hands shifting from Betty's neck to the line of her jaw, making them come face to face, but the taller girl still won't make eye contact. “Betty, don't you love me?”

 

For five agonizing beats of her heart, Veronica waits for an answer.

 

“Yes,” Betty confesses in a hush. “So much. But I'm afraid.”

 

“Of what?”

 

“I've never,” she mumbles, trying to find the words. “Never had someone love me back.”

 

“Oh,” Veronica finds that's all she can say at first. “Oh, sweetie.”

 

Betty Cooper, forever the girl next door, in love so unrequited with the boy next door for almost her entire life. Said boy, never feeling the way he should, in regards to their connection. The girl inadvertently one half of another lifelong crush, revealed in an inopportune moment, and carried into a relationship until some startling bouts of self realization that he was not truly interested in romance or sexuality of any kind.

 

The girl who fell head over heels for her other best friend, and never once believed it could be reciprocated, even though it was. Continually and constantly, Veronica Lodge has proven her love for one Elizabeth Cooper, and finally Betty is beginning to accept it as fact.

 

“The first time I saw you,” Veronica declares. “I knew. There was something special there. Like we were meant to be. Like it was-”

 

“Destiny,” Betty finishes.

 

Veronica can't help the smile that comes. The satisfaction that she felt it too.

 

“Be with me,” she says. “It's just that easy.”

 

Tears well in Betty's eyes, but do not fall.

 

“I want to.”

 

Veronica kisses her.

 

“Then say you will.”

 

Betty offers a weak smile.

 

“You seem so sure.”

 

Veronica returns it.

 

“I am sure,” she offers. “Because you're B.”

 

She kisses Betty again.

 

“I'm V.”

 

Again.

 

“And that means forever.”

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Anonymous asked: “In my defense, I thought this would go a lot more smoothly.” For beronica!**

-

Well, Betty thinks looking at the mess that was the Lodge's living room. This could have gone better. Cups and empty bottles strewn everywhere. The flowers Veronica's mom liked to keep the space lively with, scattered dead in various places. Assorted wet stains that will no doubt ruin the hardwood, Betty using what little towels she could find, to do her best at cleaning them.

 

She's glad Veronica had the foresight to give Smithers the night off. No doubt the man so loyal to the family would tear her a new one for making such a mess of their apartment. She makes peace with the fact that she'll be banned from visiting, at least for a little while, for causing such a ruckus. Even if Cheryl is the one who's mostly to blame, it was still Betty who allowed her presence and penchant for chaos, the Pembrooke left to suffer in her wake.

 

Veronica is passed out in her room, Betty having managed to drag her there after finding the unconscious girl on the bathroom floor, yet another statistic of underage drinking. She checks in on her every half hour or so, between making small progress with the mess, making random piles in places because she couldn't find any garbage bags and all the cans in the apartment had been filled before the party even let out.

 

No cleaning supplies either, and Betty wonders how the Lodge's can lament about losing their vast fortune, when it appears that they still don't have to clean up after themselves. Hours pass before she thinks she's made enough difference to earn a break, wandering into Veronica's room, knees pressed against the mattress as she leans down to brush the hair from the slumbering girl's forehead.

 

“Mmph,” Veronica mumbles at the contact, eyebrows pinching together.

 

Betty smiles at little miss frowny face, leaning further to place a kiss at her temple.

 

“Betty?” Veronica questions, eyes still closed.

 

“Who else?” she teases softly. “Someone had to clean up the disaster of a birthday party.”

 

Veronica groans. “So not my idea.”

 

Betty laughs.

 

“In my defense, I thought this would go a lot more smoothly.”

 

Veronica reaches out blindly, arm waving left to right until Betty meets her half way.

 

“Bed is big enough for two,” she offers, peering a cautious eye open.

 

“It sure is.”

 

Veronica's bottom lip turns out in a pout.

 

“Come on B,” she sighs. “Be my cuddle bunny? It is my birthday.”

 

Betty lays down on the bed, one arm sliding across Veronica's midsection, automatically pulling them closer together. Veronica hums with delight at the contact, shifting so their foreheads press together.

 

“Technically your birthday ended four hours ago,” Betty says once they settle.

 

Veronica shrugs.

 

“Tomato, to-mah-toe.”

 

Betty laughs.

 

“What?”

 

“Thank you for my present.”

 

“V, I didn't get you anything.”

 

Veronica kisses her.

 

“Yeah, you did.”

 

/\

 

**Anonymous asked: "I bet you can take my mind off it." for beronica :-))))**

-

Betty hands her a plastic sandwich bag, which Veronica accepts in slight confusion, before looking down to see what is contained within. Pearls. Each one of hers, broken and scattered across a public bathroom floor.

 

She looks up sharply at her friend, mouth hanging open slightly, that she thought to do such a thing. That she no doubt crawled upon her hands and knees across disgusting ancient tile to find each and every one to save.

 

“Betty-”

 

“I know you were upset,” Betty cuts her off. “And having a dramatic moment. But I think deep down, you would have regretted getting rid of those no matter what your father did.”

 

Veronica shifts the bag in her hand, thumb and index finger squeezing their way across a few random pearls.

 

“I don't know what to say.”

 

“You don't have to say anything,” Betty offers with a smile. “Put them in a drawer. Never look at them again. But don't throw them away. I think we both know you still don't want really want to do that.”

 

Veronica nods, quietly shoving the bag into her purse.

 

“I don't want to talk about it right now,” she says softly.

 

“You don't have to.”

 

Veronica steps closer, one hand reaching for Betty's, who entwines their fingers easily.

 

“I don't want to think about it either.”

 

Betty rubs her thumb across the top of Veronica's hand.

 

“Then don't.”

 

Veronica reaches up to Betty's cheek.

 

“I bet you could take my mind off it.”

 

Betty's face sours with concern.

 

“Ronnie...”

 

“Please,” Veronica asks. “You're the only thing in this miserable little town that doesn't make me hate myself.”

 

Betty squeezes her hand.

 

“You scare me when you say things like that.”

 

“I mean it,” Veronica insists. “You're just so...”

 

“So?”

 

Lips press together tentatively, Veronica pushing closer, god how she's wanted to this. Under different circumstances would be ideal, but she'll take whatever comes, Betty kissing her back a lifeline she didn't realize was needed until it happens.

 

Her father is guilty of a great many things, the trickle down effect staining her conscious, her soul. But something about Betty lifts her from the weight of it, the blonde best friend as pure as sunshine, burning away the oily deception.

 

“Betty,” she sighs against her mouth, arms wrapping tighter around the girl, clinging as if she'll float away if either of them suddenly let go.

 

“I got you,” Betty assures with quiet confidence. “I got you.”

 

/\

**Anonymous asked: "You look like the type of girl who can keep a secret." for b &v? <3**

-

Veronica loses herself in the rhythm, sliding between partners, hips swinging with the music while her hands lift toward the lights. Bodies, bodies everywhere, all focused on the beat. She dances until her muscles ache. Until her head becomes light. The heat of the dance floor suddenly too much to bear, that it spins counter to her moves, and she wanders away from the crowd to catch her breath.

 

Something else catches her eye, a flash of something familiar, though the rational part of her mind still functioning declares it can't be. That this isn't her scene. That she couldn't even know about the club, let alone grace it with her presence. Her feet move to follow, however, before the thought is even finished.

 

The hallway leading to the bathrooms has a fork off to the left, one the girl she trails takes without hesitation, the echo of her heels on the cold concrete floor now audible the further they get from the DJ.

 

“Betty?” She questions, causing the girl to stop instantly, the last click of her shoes pinging in Veronica's ear. “Is that-what are you doing here?”

 

The girl seems to spin in slow motion, the familiar flapper wig that caught Veronica's eye, framing her friend's face with perfect points in the middle of her cheeks. Lips stained crimson rather her habitual pastel pink, with eyes perfectly accentuated by sharpened lines of black, the light in them different from the girl she sees on a daily basis.

 

“I'm sorry,” the girl replies. “I think you have me confused with someone else.”

 

Veronica's head tilts in confusion, brows furrowing at the statement. This is no uncanny doppelganger in front of her, she's sure of it. It is Betty Cooper, her bubbly best friend, playing goth club Barbie for some unknown reason.

 

“Betty come on,” she starts, but it cut off by a hand thrown up.

 

“I don't think you understand,” the girl states flatly. “Betty isn't here right now.”

 

Veronica's eyes widen.

 

“Then... Who are you?”

 

The girl offers a smile that instantly makes Veronica's heart stop, suddenly feeling so cold, like a meek little forest animal watching the snake coil its way toward her.

 

“We've met before, haven't we?” comes the reply. “She called me Polly that one time, but we both know it doesn't suit me. I guess I don't really have a name.”

 

The girl steps forward, and Veronica can't help but retreat, warning bells ringing loudly in her mind.

 

“I don't feel like a Beth,” she continues. “Lizzie is too Youtube Jane Austen, and E just makes me sound pretentious. Then again, maybe I don't need some play on Betty blue eyes' name. A little too obvious don't you think?”

 

She takes another step, but this time Veronica holds her ground, breath shaking when the girl stops mere inches from pressing into her, one hand lifting to tease under her chin.

 

“Come on, Ronnie,” the girl insists. “Help me out here.”

 

It's too much, Veronica thinks, whatever is happening right now. She's exhausted, kind of drunk, and this is just far beyond her mental capacity in the moment.

 

“Madeline,” she presents in a rush, it being the first name that pops into her head that doesn't sound like some high class call girl, or low key porn star.

 

The eyes that aren't Betty's light up at the offer, seeming to think it over a moment, before that snake like smile comes back into play.

 

“Madeline,” she repeats with a nod. “Love it. Call me that.”

 

Veronica feels dizzy.

 

“What is happening right now?”

 

Madeline's hands lift to Veronica's cheeks, thumbs stroking the skin.

 

“I was always here,” she offers. “Just a quiet little voice in the back of her mind. But that girl has a little problem with repression, depression, and a slew of other issues she's too afraid to burden anyone with. Sweet, perfect Betty Cooper, always raging against the light on the inside. Constant pressure bubbling up, until every now and again, she has to let me out.”

 

Veronica wants to badly to avert her eyes, but something about the girl doesn't let her look away.

 

“Do I even have to ask that you don't tell anyone?” Madeline inquires smugly. “You look like the type of girl who can keep a secret.”

 

Without thinking, Veronica nods, internally angry with herself for being so helpless.

 

Madeline closes what little space is left between them, offering gratitude in a kiss, one that makes Veronica's eyes flutter closed.

 

“She's been wanting to do that again,” Madeline informs, pulling back. “Ever since the spectacle. Sometimes when she's alone, she'll let herself remember how you tasted, always touching that spot on her chin where your thumb lingered.”

 

Veronica wants to run. So far and fast. But remains where she is, frozen in place.

 

“Something about you makes her so happy,” Madeline continues. “But doesn't think she deserves it. Will never let herself have it.”

 

Madeline kisses her again.

 

“Have you.”

 

This is wrong, Veronica thinks. So wrong. So many levels of _wrong_.

 

“Poor thing,” Madeline tuts. “The two of you could be beautiful.”

 

She steps away from Veronica, offering a playful bop on the nose, before sidestepping around her to head back toward the dance floor.

 

“Don't worry about your girl,” she calls back. “I'll take extra good care of her.”

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Anonymous asked: "Eventually, you just move on." for beronica <3**

-

“What was that?” Betty asks, pulling Veronica by the elbow, a little too quickly down the steps to where her ankle nearly rolls in these heels.

 

“What was what?” Veronica replies in confusion, still trying not to fall.

 

Thankfully Betty comes to a halt once they hit the bottom, Veronica throwing her hands out to regain balance, looking up to her friend when she settles. Betty stands with arms folded, eyes intense and incredulous, as if an unforgivable betrayal has crossed between them.

 

“That,” she repeats. “On stage. With Archie.”

 

Veronica can't help but glance back at the school, as if a movie of their duet would magically play across the walls.

 

“A song?” It's not meant to come out like a question, but her voice goes up an octave from Betty's defensive stance.

 

“Looked like more than a song.”

 

Veronica's eyes narrow.

 

“It was a performance,” she goes on. “One that we killed by the way, thank you for noticing.”

 

“With the hands?” Betty questions. “And the longing looks, and flirty-”  
  


“Are you jealous?” Veronica interrupts. “Is that what's happening right now?”

 

Betty suddenly clams up, arms still folded, but her eyes avert to the ground.

 

“Last I checked, you have a boyfriend. One that you abandoned on the dance floor, not that I paid attention, one I was very supportive of when it happened despite any lingering feelings I might have had.”

 

Betty still keeps her eyes away.

 

“Yes, Archie and I had a moment at the party, and maybe that moment is going to grow into something more. We haven't really talked about it. We haven't had a chance. We're just, I don't know, going with it?”

 

Betty sighs.

 

“You could have told me,” she offers up quietly.

 

“Like you told me about Jughead?” Veronica fires back. “Like I didn't have to pull it out of you after he threw his arm over your shoulder, as if it were suddenly a thing the two of you did?”

 

Betty looks up, eyes softening, and Veronica steps toward her.

 

“What are you jealous of here exactly, B? Is it Archie? Me?”

 

Betty reaches for her, their fingers loosely entwining.

 

“I don't know,” she admits.

 

Veronica looks down at their hands.

 

“Because you know how Archie feels, or doesn't, about you. And me? You said you weren't ready, and I respected that. But then Jughead is there for you, kisses you, and you just go with it. Suddenly you two are dating. Archie doesn't even blink, and I might have, but you're my friend. I want you to be happy.”

 

Betty's hand lifts to Veronica's face, their eyes finally meeting each other.

 

“I think I'm happiest with you.”

 

Veronica can't help the smile that comes from such a confession.

 

“Oh honey,” she breathes. “You don't get to say that now.”

 

Betty's mouth drop in surprise.

 

“Why not?”

 

Veronica's hands lifts to her chin, closing it.

 

“Because you weren't ready,” she answers. “You're still not, and that's okay. No one is saying you have to have it all figured out, but eventually, you just move on.”

 

Betty's lip trembles slightly.

 

“Did I miss it?” She asks. “Our shot?”

 

Veronica shakes her head.

 

“Of course not,” she assures. “But think of it like a dog eared page in a book. A moment we can go back to anytime we want, just not now.”

 

Betty nods, then sighs, as Veronica kisses her whisper soft, thumb lingering in that familiar spot under her chin.

 

“To be continued.”

 

/\

 

**Anonymous asked: "And here I thought I was the bad influence." (for betty and veronica!)**

-

 

“Hey,” Betty says into Veronica's ear, with arms wrapping around her waist.

 

She jumps, having not heard Betty's approach from behind, gasping loudly with her hands shooting outward to brace themselves against the lockers.

 

“Sorry!” Betty is quick to apologize, squeezing slightly to steady her.

 

Veronica laughs, chin dipping down to her chest, before shifting around in Betty's grasp so they face each other.

 

“That's the second time this week you've done that to me,” she says in mock annoyance. “I'm seriously considering getting you a bell.”

 

Betty's brow lifts in amusement.

 

“What, like a cat?”

 

“Meow,” Veronica replies with a smirk, punctuating the tease with a quick peck on the lips. “An early warning system would be beneficial for my heart. I mean, one can only take so many jump scares.”

 

“Hmm,” Betty hums in response. “You saying I scare you?”

 

“Only when you're emulating some psycho killer, stalking me in the halls.”

 

Betty's mouth drops open, but her eyes are playful.

 

“You are so mean to me.”

 

“Says the one constantly scaring the life out her girlfriend.”

 

Another quick kiss.

 

“So, what's going on?” Veronica asks. “Don't you have history this period?”

 

“I'm skipping.”

 

Veronica gasps dramatically.

 

“Scandal!”

 

“You are too.”

 

“Oh, am I?”

 

“Mhmm,” Betty insists with a nod, before leaning in to playfully bump Veronica's nose with her own.

 

“And here I thought I was the bad influence.”

 

Betty laughs.

 

“Any particular reason for this sudden truancy?”

 

Betty leans closer, and starts to whisper sing happy birthday into her ear. Veronica chuckles softly in reply, leaning her forehead against Betty's shoulder.

 

“You remembered, huh?”

 

“Of course I did,” Betty replies, nipping gently at Veronica's ear. “But I am a little surprised you aren't making a big deal out of it. I wouldn't have pegged you the kind of person to share an anti-birthday mindset with Jughead.”

 

“Please,” Veronica scoffs. “My parties went from dawn to dusk. Kids would be fawning all over themselves just to get an invitation. They were legendary. My quinceañera was the social highlight of the season.”

 

Betty shakes her head because, of course it was.

 

“And now you don't even think to mention it.”

 

“Little lacking in funds to throw such a soiree this time around.”

 

“You don't have to be rich to celebrate.”

 

“No,” Veronica agrees. “But with the whirlpool of upheaval that opened up underneath my feet in the last year, I thought that taking a break from the festivities would be the right call.”

 

Betty clucks her tongue. She hadn't really thought of it like that.

 

“Okay, so we won't turn it into a big thing,” she offers. “Unless cutting class to make out with me under the bleachers counts.”

 

Veronica's eyes shine with delight.

 

“Oh it counts,” she agrees, leaning in for a kiss. “It definitely counts.”

 

Betty smiles against her lips.

 

“Happy birthday, V.”

 

Veronica returns the smile.

 

“Thank you, B.”

 

/\

 

**Anonymous asked: "You kept that?" for B and V**

-

Betty sits on the edge of Veronica's bed, surrounded by boxes, glancing around at the bare walls. The girl in question is in the bathroom, selecting a specific set of toiletries she didn't trust the movers her dad hired to handle with any sort of care. Odd that she trusted them well enough with most of her other stuff though, Betty muses, even if they did a half-ass job taping only some of the boxes closed.

 

Moving day crept up on them a lot faster than Betty thought it would, the end of summer suddenly here, though really she had been packed and ready to go sometime in mid July. She'd been dreaming of going to college in southern California ever since that internship back in sophomore year, and to her perseverance, got accepted to UCLA, USC, and Pepperdine respectively. In the end deciding on USC primarily because of their journalism program.

 

Veronica followed suit, focusing on applying to schools in the same general area, despite knowing the odds of them getting accepted into matching universities was minimal they still tried regardless. She chose Loyala Marymount, in partial influence of her father, despite being a man marred by financial scandal he still insisted his daughter be above a state school.

 

Even though they're less than twenty miles apart, Betty knows it will take hours to see each other on the weekends, but both promising to do everything in their power to make it happen.

 

Veronica is still rummaging around, Betty sighs and decides to make herself useful, grabbing a discarded tape gun one of the movers left behind and proceeds to finish off the rest of the boxes. She closes three relatively quickly, but the fourth no one even bothered to close the flaps, and a quick flash of something familiar catches her eye.

 

Reaching inside to see if it is what she thinks, a slow smile pulls at her lips when her suspicions are confirmed. The dried remnants of two roses, one red and one yellow, carefully preserved in a vacuum sealed pouch. Veronica's half of their matching corsages from the first dance they ever attended as a couple. Without thinking, she pulls it from the box and presses it to her lips, the smile growing wider with the memory.

 

Veronica comes out of the bathroom finally, head tilted in curiosity to what exactly Betty is doing, as her eyes follow something in her hand tossed casually onto the bed.

 

“You kept that?” Betty asks.

 

Veronica steps closer, not exactly sure what 'that' is, until another step is taken and the item comes into focus.

 

“Of course I did,” she replies, picking up the pouch between her fingers, and giving a once over.

 

Betty looks at her with shining eyes.

 

“What?” Veronica asks. “Am I not allowed to be sentimental?”

 

“Of course,” Betty is quick to assure. “It's just, well, you're normally not.”

 

Veronica laughs softly.

 

“So I'm pragmatic, sue me.”

 

Betty approaches her.

 

“I'd rather kiss you.”

 

Veronica grins.

 

“No one's stopping you.”

 

The kiss is as sweet as the promise of the future.

 

Coming to fruition as they always planned.

 

Together.

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Anonymous asked: "I would never admit that, at least not to anyone besides you." for b &v**

-

Veronica Lodge does not hide

 

She may evade a person, place, or thing. Circumvent a circumstance, or sidestep a subject, but she most assuredly does not elude, avoid, or shy from a problem that presents itself. Betty Cooper is her best friend in the world, and they had preexisting plans to hang out on this simple summer Sunday, so it's completely out of her control that she not be at the Pembrooke for daddy's first official day out of prison.

 

Besides, there's no better way to beat the heat, than with a frosty chocolate milkshake in a booth at Pop's with the prettiest girl in town. Much better than being seated at the world's worst welcome home dinner, where a father who's done nothing but lie her entire life, makes false promises about fresh starts and new futures. Or watching a mother who had come through on so many occasions, since moving to this twisted little town, revert back to cast of the real housewives of two-faced shadiness.

 

Betty sips her milkshake with pink pouty lips, it's just the kind of distraction that soothes Veronica's overactive anxiety, reaching across the table for the blonde's free hand and smiling when she girl doesn't even blink at the gesture.

 

Half an hour later, they're walking along a paved trail that follows Sweetwater River, idly chatting about this and that, the superficial subject matter an easy diversion from the harsh reality waiting for her back at home. Veronica asks for little details of Riverdale history she normally wouldn't give a second thought to, just to keep the conversation going, to have Betty's voice pacify jangled nerves.

 

Because she fears even a moment of silence will bring her face to face with the fact that she has absolutely no idea how to even look at her father again. Knowing what he is now. What he's done. So many lives ruined in the sake of greed. Of power.

 

Reaching out again to take Betty's hand, the girl doesn't even pause in her story of how a flurry of felled maple trees falling into the river lent to its sugar coated moniker, just squeezes back and prattles on because she knows it's what is needed of her.

 

It's around dusk when Veronica suggests a movie, doesn't matter whatever is showing at the Bijou, that Betty's eyebrow finally lifts in her first hint of skepticism for the day. Though she knows the girl did her damnedest to keep the charade up for as long as she could, Veronica can't help but feel a ping of disappointment it came across at all.

 

“You can't hide out with me forever,” Betty offers in response to Veronica's frown.

 

“I do not-”

 

“But I could, I mean if you want, be there with you.”

 

Funny to think, Veronica chides herself inwardly, that such an option hadn't crossed her mind all day. That perhaps it was possible, to greet her father for the first time in months, with all her anger and doubt still in the forefront because Betty would be there. With their hands entwined, she can see herself with the courage to express her fear and disappointment in him. His betrayal of everything she believed him to be.

 

“No,” she finds herself saying, despite wanting nothing more.

 

She couldn't put Betty through that. She won't subject her to Hiram Lodge's snake oil salesman charm.

 

“You're right,” Veronica continues. “I am hiding from him.”

 

Again she reaches for Betty's hand, and again the blonde gives it willingly, her breath catching slightly when Veronica brings it to her mouth to press a gentle kiss against the knuckles.

 

“I would never admit that,” she gives softly. “At least not to anyone besides you.”

 

Betty smiles at the admission, taking her turn to surprise Veronica by leaning down and kissing the top of her head.

 

“You can do this,” she assures. “You're seriously the bravest girl I know.”

 

How Veronica wants to kiss her for saying it, but knows if she does, that fleeting moment of happiness in a day of trepidation will surely cause her to loose the nerve of finally going home.

 

“I'll walk you,” Betty offers, tugging on Veronica's hand.

 

“Okay,” Veronica accepts, taking a deep breath, and putting on a brave face.

 

She does not hide, avoid, or eschew.

  
But if she ever had to flee, well, Betty Cooper is the perfect person to escape with.

 

/\

 

**Untitled AU never going to finish.**  

-

“Hey V,” Cassie says instead of hello, sidling up next to her locker, and pointing nonchalantly at some girl at the end of the hall. “Check out the new meat.”

 

Veronica's brows furrow at the crass statement, no matter the pedigree of the girl's upper crust upbringing, she's from one of those states where a cotillion is held outside with peach cobbler. Still, Veronica shoves the math book into her locker and spins to take a look, always curious about a new face.

 

The girl is a tall drink of water that's for sure. Dirty blonde hair pulled into a ponytail so tight her roots must be screaming, and clearly the school's wardrobe department hadn't been prepared for someone of her stature because the uniform looks about a size or two too small. That's an automatic demerit, she thinks. An unbuttoned sweater is a big fat no no to Headmaster McAllister, like it's still 1952 or something.

 

She holds her books close to the chest, quite ample if Veronica must notice, but keeps her head down as she walks. A whiff of maple syrup trails her when she passes the two of them, reeking of upstate, and Cassie looks to her with a devilish grin because she smells it too. Blood in the water for a couple of sharks like them.

 

-

 

“Her name is Betty Cooper,” Cassie whispers. “She's from some podunk little town called Riverdale. Here on a scholarship. Smart as a whip and sweet as cherry pie.”

 

Veronica can't help to roll her eyes. She didn't ask for any of the information, nor does she have any ideas what to do with it, but Cassie looks at her expectantly as if she should.

 

“What am I supposed to do with that?” She asks.

 

“I don't know,” Cassie replies. “Plan of attack? Haze the new girl? Don't you always think of something?”

 

Veronica sighs. Yes, she always thinks of something. But after the whole incident with Paige, and Katy getting expelled, she doesn't really have the motivation for mayhem she once did. Turns out there are real consequences for being the resident mean girls no matter how rich and influential your parents are.

 

It was hard look in the mirror, and as it turns out, Veronica wasn't too fond of what she saw.

 

/\

 

**[veronicabetts](http://veronicabetts.tumblr.com/) asked: oh, for the drabble prompts - how about #33 for betty/veronica? **

**33. _“Close your eyes and hold out your hands.”_**

-

Veronica can't help but gawk at the sight of so many paper hearts plastered along the hallways. A seemingly endless line of them, each carrying some greeting card declaration of love, no better thought out than their bland candy counterparts.

 

Who knew small town society would eat up such a corporate holiday like Valentines?

 

She heads toward home room, passing a small group of girls, squealing like banshees that one of them received a lollipop that had been taped to the front of her locker. Must be another one of those Riverdale things, she muses. Though clearly much more socially acceptable than a sticky maple.

 

Laughing at the skinny blonde boy, with glasses so thick he must be blind without them, holding his own lollipop with a shaking hand as if he can't believe he'd gotten one she shakes her head and keeps moving.

 

A group of jocks high five it up in pure bro style, that four out of five of them have also received the treats, while the odd man out just sulks off to the side with hands in his pockets.

 

Betty is suddenly walking in stride with her, smiling serenely at all the festivities, to which Veronica shoots a curious glance.

 

“Don't tell me you're a sucker for this sham of a holiday too,” she offers in way of greeting.

 

“It's sweet,” comes Betty's rebuttal. “And telling on your part.”

 

Veronica's eyebrow arches curiously. “Explain.”

 

“People who tend to hate Valentines day, are ones who have always been rejected harshly, or left out completely.”

 

“Guess again,” Veronica shoots back after mimicking the sound of a buzzer.

 

Betty laughs.

 

“Okay then,” she continues. “Daddy didn't get you that pony you always longed for. I mean, that's what rich girls get instead of cardboard hearts filled with chocolate, right?”

 

“Nay,” Veronica teases. “Of course I had a pony. A Shetland. Her name was Carrots.”

 

Betty shoots her a look.

 

“Is that not clever enough? I was six when I got her. She liked carrots. Easy.”

 

They're quiet a moment.

 

“You're not going to check your locker?” Betty asks when the moment passes.

 

Veronica stops in her tracks, turning to face the blonde, who suddenly looks sheepish.

 

“You didn't.”

 

“What? I might have-don't make that face, it's a Riverdale thing!”

 

Veronica strides with purpose toward her locker, Betty trailing behind her, and is caught quite unaware at the disappointment she feels when there is no lollipop taped to the front.

 

“Not funny,” she begins, but is immediately cut off.

 

“Close your eyes and hold out your hands.”

 

Veronica glowers.

 

“Why would I?” She asks. “We've already established this day is bogus, and your little joke here is completely uncalled for-”

 

“Do it,” Betty insists.

 

Veronica glares for another beat, but concedes, closing her eyes with a sigh. What is placed in her palm doesn't feel like a lollipop, and when her eyes open she's greeted by her favorite candy.

 

“Cordial cherry,” says softly. “How did you-”

 

“I might have asked your mom,” Betty admits with cheeks turning red.

 

Veronica smiles.

 

“Is there something you want to ask _me_?”

 

Betty nods, stepping closer, and something about Veronica having to look up makes her heart beat just a little faster.

 

“Veronica Lodge,” she begins, taking the candy from the brunette's hand and lifting it toward her lips. “Will you be my valentine?”

 

/\

 

**[mysticfells](http://mysticfells.tumblr.com/) asked: #4 for beronica :-)**

**#4. _“Come here.  Let me fix it.”_**

-

Veronica shimmies the dress up her midsection, the fit still as perfect as it had been in the shop, as she reaches around the fumble with the zipper. About halfway up it snags, her brows furrowing at the inconvenience, as she sighs before pulling down briefly then back up again. Same place, same snag, but now she frowns. This certainly didn't happen when she tried it on.

 

Another day, another dance.

 

Seriously, Veronica wonders, how many of these things can one small town learning establishment afford per school year?

 

Betty is also getting ready just behind her, the brunette stealing unsolicited glances every now and then in her mirror, admiring the curl of her friend's hair on these rare occasions she actually lets it down. Betty catches her eye in the reflection, though she looks amused at Veronica's irritation rather than sympathetic, the brunette huffs with disappointment.

 

“Come here,” she offers with an unnecessary point to the spot in front of her. “Let me fix it.”

 

Veronica places a cautious hand on her stomach to keep the dress from falling, taking three steps over to Betty, before turning to present her back and broken zipper.

 

“See if I ever shop in their establishment again,” she grumbles softly, to which Betty chuckles.

 

“Relax,” Betty admonishes gently. “It's just a loose thread caught in the teeth. No big deal.”

 

Her fingers fiddle with said thread for a moment or two, as Veronica's eyes shift back and forth, curious to why it's taking longer than needed.

 

“Problem?”

 

“No,” Betty is quick to dismiss. “Just caught in there pretty good, but I can get it, don't worry.”

 

She fumbles with the garment for a few more seconds, Veronica shifting her shoulders from the stronger effort her friend starts to put in, until the blonde finally says _there_ through grit teeth and places her hands assuredly on Veronica's arms.

 

Betty doesn't move, instead taking a half step to press herself against Veronica's back, hands slowly teasing down her arms until they reach her hips, then move wrap around her waist.

 

“Betty?” Veronica is quick to question, trying hard to ignore the goosebumps that rise at the contact, but can't hold back the gasp when the blonde's head dips to press a kiss against her bare shoulder.

 

“We can't,” she manages to say, though her eyes flutter closed.

 

“I know,” Betty agrees, nodding against her.

 

“Archie and Jughead,” Veronica carries on. “They-they'll be here any minute.”

 

Betty nods again, but still doesn't move.

 

“Sometimes it's hard,” she admits, lips still hovering above Veronica's skin. “Harder than it should be. When you look so beautiful.”

 

Veronica bites her lip.

“Don't,” she starts softly, shifting in Betty's hold, so that they face each other even though she has to crane her neck to do so. “Say things like that to me.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because it makes me,” Veronica starts, stops, and look away. “It makes me want. Things I can't have. Not now, anyway.”

 

“Yeah,” Betty concurs, her voice sounding oddly far away.

 

It's her turn to gasp, when Veronica pulls her down for a kiss despite her words, giving into to the urge if only for a moment.

 

/\

 

**Anonymous asked: 57 for beronica!**

**#57. _“There is enough room for both of us.”_**

-

They stand side by side, as the door to the sleazy motel room creaks open, each of them hesitating to cross the threshold. Betty reaches around the door frame, fumbling for a light switch, it making an audible click with she flicks it up. The carpet is a faded orange nightmare, as the small table in the corner, and nightstand against the wall look like relics from the seventies.

 

Didn't exactly think this one through, Betty muses to herself. Another misadventure for the ladies of the Riverdale junior detective club. Chasing down a lead without so much as a plan, their car breaking down somewhere near the Canadian border in upstate Vermont, basically stranded until the morning and this seedy motel the only one within walking distance of the garage.

 

Veronica sighs loudly, before glancing up at Betty, and stepping into the room with a brave face. The blonde quickly follows, closing the door behind them, glancing around the room until her jaw drops at the sight of the ancient television.

 

“I bet it doesn't even work,” she laments.

 

Veronica gives it a curious glance, before looking back to Betty.

 

“The mechanic said he would have the part first thing in the morning,” she reminds. “So we only need to stay here as long a good nights sleep will require.”

 

Betty's attention turns to the bed. Singular. Her brow then lifting in an unasked question about the sleeping arrangements. Veronica chuckles softly to herself.

 

“There is enough room for both of us,” she offers with a wave of her hand. “And the quicker we get to sleep, the faster morning comes, and we can escape this polyester nightmare of a motel.”

 

Betty nods her acceptance, though now wonders what exactly she's going to sleep in. Not like they packed a bag before hopping in the car and tearing up the highway.

 

“I'm going to wash up,” Veronica says, heading toward the bathroom. “Wish me luck.”

 

Betty doesn't get the chance to offer the words before the door closes, though she smirks at Veronica's muffled cry of disgust from the other side, before moving to turn on the lamp resting on the nightstand. She heads back toward the main switch by the door to flick it off, then sits on the end of the bed to shed her jacket and shoes.

 

When the bathroom door opens again her eyes snap open, shifting to sit upright, she must have dozed off. Veronica rounds the edge of the bed before sinking down next to Betty, their shoulders bumping comfortably.

 

“Good news, the water is clear,” she informs. “Bad news, both the tub and sink are not.”

 

“It's fine,” Betty's quick to assure. “I'm probably going to pass out again in the next five minutes.”

 

Veronica turns to her, lifting a hand run along Betty's taut hairstyle.

 

“At least take your ponytail down,” she insists.

 

Betty reaches for the hair tie without hesitation, pulling it free, and shaking out the strands with her right hand. Veronica reaches toward the lamp, and with a click they're surrounded in darkness. Neither girl says a thing, both shifting to get more comfortable, each of them reaching toward another at the same time.

 

Veronica shifts again so that Betty can wrap her arms around from behind, sliding back until gently pressed against her. She sighs serenely at the kiss pressed into her hair, but doesn't let it go any further, the setting not the kind of place to put her in the mood.

 

“I'm sorry,” Betty offers softly for their predicament. “If I hadn't been so cavalier, we wouldn't be in this situation.”

 

“Don't be,” Veronica is quick to dismiss. “I go where you go.”

 

Betty is glad for the dark, suddenly shy at the smile that comes.

 

“Night V,” she says.

 

“Night, B.”

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Anonymous asked: 58 for B/V?**

**58. _“You don’t have to say anything.”_**

_-_

It's a slow night at Pop's.

 

Half past ten on a Saturday and they're the only two patrons in the diner. Veronica is five or six sips into her milkshake, but Betty has yet to take her first. Instead just playing with the straw and staring out the window at an empty road, her knee bouncing consistently under the table.

 

“Something the matter, B?”

 

“Fine,” comes the swift reply, though she keeps her eyes focused outside. “I'm fine.”

 

“You sure about that?” Veronica presses. “Usually when you ask me to Pop's for a shake you, I don't know, actually drink yours?”

 

Betty looks to her untouched treat, hand still stirring the straw, as if she honestly had forgotten it was ordered at all.

 

“Oh,” she sighs, finally stopping both her hand and leg. “I, uh, have something to tell you.”

 

Veronica leans curiously forward, a single brow arching.

 

“Something that is turning you into a twitchy milkshake hater?” she teases. “Intrigue.”

 

Betty laughs in trepidation.

 

“If I... Oh, man.”

 

She sighs again, long and drawn out. “If I tell you, you have to promise me that no matter what, we'll still be friends.”

 

Veronica's amusement shifts to concern.

 

“Betts, what is it?”

 

Betty finally turns to her, eyes wide and soulful.

 

“I love you,” she blurts, immediately throwing up a hand to halt any reply. “Please. You don't have to say anything. But I love you. Like, really. I'm in love with you, and have been since the day you got here.”

 

Veronica's hands lift to her chest, softly overlapping.

 

“What took you so long?” she asks. “To finally say something?”

 

A blush burns at Betty's cheeks.

 

“I didn't think, I mean I wasn't sure-”

 

“I already made my move,” Veronica interrupts. “In front of half the Vixens and Cheryl Bombshell herself. Of course I feel it too.”

 

She reaches across the table, Betty meeting halfway, their hands easily intertwining.

 

“I thought it was just for show,” Betty admits.

  
Veronica smirks.

 

“Flash,” she replies. “Is perfectly capable of containing substance.”

 

“So,” Betty starts, looking down at their hands. “What happens now?”

 

Veronica gives a reassuring squeeze.

 

“What do you want to happen?”

 

Betty tilts forward, voice dropping like a secret.

 

“I want to kiss you.”

  
Veronica's smirk turns to a smile.

 

“Yeah?”

 

Betty nods.

 

“So bad.”

 

“Well,” Veronica begins, propping up on her elbows to lean further across the table. “What's stopping you?”

 

/\

 

**Anonymous asked: 71, betty and veronica**

**71. _“No reason.”_**

-

Betty takes the math book from her bag with one hand, while simultaneously entering her locker combination with the other, and popping open the door to deposit said book with hardly a glance. Something inside does catch her eye however, and she almost smashes it with geometry, somehow halting at the last second.

 

A pink rose rests curiously in the middle of the storage space.

 

Momentarily confused, she reaches for the flower, slipping the book in safely after. It's freshly cut, and matches the sweater she's wearing perfectly. It also smells so sweet, that she pulls at the back of her hair for a bobby pin, and fastens it into place just above her right ear.

 

Cheryl notices right away, when she enters the biology lab, lip curling with mockery at the natural accessory.

 

“Spring has truly sprung,” she bites sarcastically. “When a girl wears a flower in her hair.”

 

Betty sighs.

 

“Good morning to you too, Cheryl.”

 

The redhead's eyes are like daggers.

 

“Maybe you have a secret admirer.”

 

Betty scoffs and doesn't bother carrying on further.

 

-

 

There's a white rose, sitting in the middle of their regular table at lunch, pointed at the seat Betty always takes. She's the first one here, leaving her to wonder just how long it has been waiting, and is a little surprised someone else didn't come along at take it. Setting down her lunch tray, she reaches for the flower, bringing it to her nose and inhaling deeply. Just as sweet as the one in her hair, it brings an instant smile to her face.

 

Archie plops himself down then, reaching into his backpack for a brown bag lunch, and nods in her direction.

 

“What's with the flower?” he asks, pulling an apple from the sack.

 

“I don't know,” Betty answers, taking another sniff. “It was just on the table when I sat down.”

 

He takes a big bite and ponders.

 

“Flowers waiting for me,” he sings after swallowing. “On the table, what a mystery.”

 

Betty laughs in approval.

 

“Bad day to forget your guitar, huh Arch?”

 

He shrugs with a grin.

 

“If I'm still thinking about it when I get home, a song will come.”

 

-

 

A yellow rose graces her desk in the Blue and Gold office. Jughead sits at his own, hunched over his laptop, typing away. He doesn't even glance up at her arrival, and only offers a greeting when hearing her bag drop onto one of the empty chairs. Taking a seat, she reaches for the flower, bringing it to her nose and taking in the scent.

 

“You know anything about this, Jug?” she asks.

 

“Huh?” is his reply, not even turning around.

 

“The rose,” she continues. “Was it already here when you came in?”

 

“The what?” He questions, finally turning to look at her. “Oh. Yeah. It was there.”

 

He notices the pink rose still pinned in her hair.

 

“And it's not the first one you found today,” he goes on. “Is it?”

 

Betty shakes her head.

 

“One in my locker this morning,” she fills in. “One on the table at lunch.”

 

Jughead grins.

 

“Someone's got a secret admirer.”

 

Betty laughs.

 

“Not exactly.”

 

“Yeah,” Jughead agrees. “But that's what normal people say about this kind of thing, don't they?”

 

-

 

A red rose greets her from the middle of the bed, as she enters her room, held lithely in Veronica's hand.

The brunette smiles at the sight of the pink flower still in Betty's hair, extending an arm to offer the latest one, which Betty accepts with a smile of her own.

 

As with all the others, she brings it to her nose to smell, before leaning down to kiss her girlfriend in greeting.

 

“Why?” She asks softly.

 

“No reason,” is Veronica's reply, gently bumping their noses. “Just being sweet to my girl.”

 

Betty laughs, moving to wrap her arms around Veronica's neck.

 

“Everyone thought I had a secret admirer.”

 

Veronica tilts her head up for another kiss.

 

“It's hardly a secret,” she offers. “How much I admire you.”

 

/\

 

**[beronicas-smile](https://beronicas-smile.tumblr.com/) asked: can you do #5 for beronica (the drabble thing lol)**

**5. _“I’ll walk you home.”_**

-

The sound of footsteps approaching from behind, has Veronica quickly wiping at her eyes, and allowing one last sniffle before fighting back the rest of the oncoming sobs. She'd chosen this stairwell specifically, one that only leads to the rafters of the gym, and therefore useless to anyone at the dance. Unless, she really hadn't thought it through, and this is actually some booty call balcony.

 

Turning to greet the interloper, she's startled by who it is, their social interactions easily counted on one hand.

 

“Did Betty send you?” she asks, hoping her voice doesn't crack.

 

“Surprisingly no,” comes Jughead's reply. “I kind of followed you.”

 

“Why?”

 

Jughead looks perplexed, as if he hadn't really thought about why, so much as just doing.

 

“Maybe I thought,” he begins, pausing to scratch the back of his head, still hidden under that stupid beanie. “You could use an ear from someone who wasn't going to judge you for that little spectacle downstairs.”

 

Just the mention of it sends a fresh stream of tears down Veronica's face, and to Jughead's credit it doesn't send him fleeing, rather he takes a seat next to her.

 

“I hate it when we fight,” she admits quietly. “All it does is send a startling reminder that it's not easy being-”

 

“Riverdale High's token lesbian couple?”

 

Veronica shoots him a withering glare.

 

“In love,” she finishes.

 

“Ah,” Jughead accepts with a nod. “I, uh, wouldn't know anything about that.”

 

“No kidding.”

 

He laughs.

 

“That must have been embarrassing,” he continues, quickly throwing his hands up at her mouth dropping open, a scathing rebuttal perched on her tongue. “I mean to have your emotions broadcast for the entire school to see. I can't imagine feeling that kind of vulnerability.”

 

“Oh,” Veronica replies. “It was.”

 

“You two will work it out,” he offers.

 

Veronica looks away.

 

“Right now I don't see how.”

 

“As a writer-”

 

“Oh my god, that's so pretentious.”

 

“As a writer,” Jughead repeats. “I tend to observe the wide spectrum of human emotion, instead of actually feeling it for myself. And really, Veronica, watching you and Betty is seriously every cliched epic romance story ever told.”

 

Veronica laughs brokenly.

 

“That's almost a compliment.”

 

“You two will work it out,” he assures again. “Because I've known Betty Cooper my entire life, and the way she loves you... She's never felt for anyone, what she feels for you. Really. You're kind of it for her. And I think sometimes, she gets terrified of that.”

 

“Then we fight,” Veronica fills in.

 

“Then you fight,” Jughead agrees.

 

They're quiet a moment.

 

“You going to go find her?” He asks when the moment passes.

 

“No way am I going back in there,” Veronica answers. “Besides, I think a night apart to cool off will be beneficial.”

 

“Okay then,” he says, rising to his feet and offering her a hand. “Come on, I'll walk you home.”

 

“You sure about that?” Veronica questions, accepting it. “People will think we're actually becoming friends.”

 

“Yeah well,” Jughead laughs, leading her back down the stairs. “Stranger things have happened in this town.”

 

/\

 

**Anonymous asked: ooo, about the drabble prompt things. can you do 12 for betty x veronica?**

**12. _“Take my jacket, it’s cold outside.”_**

-

It's actually kind of amusing, Veronica thinks, how meticulous their make out sessions have to be. Perfectly planned any time the Cooper house is available, tonight Hal and Alice working late, Polly still at the library making up for those lost months of education. Betty actually sets an alarm on her phone, should they lose their heads completely, all sense of time fading away when their lips come together.

 

Veronica's hands cup Betty's jawline as she's wont to do, while the blonde's hands are threading through brunette strands on their own. A low moan emits from Betty's throat as she pushes closer, the lines of their bodies lining up perfectly despite the height difference. Veronica dares to shift one hand lower, down Betty's back, and slipping under the hem of her shift. The sharp inhale is taken for approval, her finger tips moving up to tease along the ridges of her spine.

 

The phone goes off just as Veronica is feeling braver, both girls jumping apart as if electrically shocked. Catching her breath with a hand atop her chest, Veronica leans back down to steal one more kiss, knowing it's all Betty will allow once the bell has rung.

 

“I'm starting to hate that stupid thing,” she says, watching as Betty reaches for the device to shut it off.

 

Betty shrugs helplessly.

 

“It keeps up from incurring the wrath of Alice,” she offers up.

 

Veronica's brow lifts.

 

“I'm not afraid of your mother.”

 

“Well, you don't live under her roof.”

 

Touche, Veronica thinks but doesn't say, instead moving from the bed and glancing out the window. The wind has kicked up fairly well, and she doesn't look forward to the walk home in such conditions. Betty notices her trepidation, immediately walking toward her closet.

 

“Take my jacket, it's cold outside,” she offers, extending a pale blue windbreaker.

 

Veronica looks at the garment but doesn't take it, glancing back out the window thinking she can just brave the chill.

 

“What?” Betty questions. “Does it clash with your fashionable sensibility?”

 

“Sort of.” Veronica admits. “Sweetie, I know you're just trying to be helpful but-”

 

“But what?”

 

“You're an amazon,” Veronica finishes. “That's going to hang off me like a bed sheet.”

 

Betty snorts.

 

“A pillowcase if anything,” she retorts. “Now take it. No arguments. What kind of a girlfriend would I be, letting mine walk home in such conditions?”

 

She doesn't let Veronica answer, moving to slip the jacket around her shoulders.

 

“I'm not going to force your arms into the sleeves,” she says, placing a kiss on Veronica's cheek. “But you are not leaving this house without it.”

 

“Fine,” Veronica concedes, holding onto the edges so it doesn't slip off. “You know, it's kind of hot when you're pushy.”

 

Betty leans down for one last kiss.

 

“Hmm,” she hums in a approval. “I'll keep that in mind.”

 

/\

 

**[bigchickcannibalistic](https://bigchickcannibalistic.tumblr.com/) asked: if you have the time, maybe beronica and #38?**

**38. _“I like your laugh.”_**

-

There's just something about her, Veronica thinks, trying not to give too many sidelong glances as they walk down the street. Seriously, she can't remember the last time she had that much dairy in one sitting. Yet, when Betty suggested a milkshake at Pop's, she said yes without any hesitation. Drank it up like it's something she does all the time, though now it weighs heavy in her stomach, holds no regrets.

 

It's genuine. The thing she can't quite put a finger on. Radiating off her in sunshine smiles, and self depreciating shrugs. Something she never could have found in someone to call a friend back in New York. Where money, entitlement, and fear were the only things she had in common with her social circle.

 

Their hands brush once or twice, sending swirls of feelings into her already full stomach, and Veronica wants nothing more than to feel their fingers intertwine. To pull Betty closer and kiss her without the spectacle, for affection she suddenly craves more than anything.

 

“I like your laugh,” she says instead, blushing furiously and turning her head so Betty can't see.

 

The blonde looks momentarily confused by the statement, but covers quickly with a grin.

 

“Thanks,” she replies easily.

 

Their hands brush for a third time, and Betty has no problem just turning hers slightly to take Veronica's. Something that brings a smile so wide, her cheeks burn. Glancing quickly down at their hands then up to Betty, and straight ahead before she says or does something stupid, she sees herself getting on that train to the rest of her life. Feeling a soft satisfaction that no matter where it takes her, the knowledge that Betty will be there, is one she will never doubt.

 


	10. Chapter 10

**[beronicas-smile](https://beronicas-smile.tumblr.com/) asked: 65 for betty and veronica?**

**65. _“I’ll help you study.”_**

-

Admittedly it's a strange assumption, that living in a small town would somehow be less stressful than the constant hustle of New York. But it's a different kind of pressure, all judgment and expectation, the fallen rich girl trying to make good. It doesn't help that Daddy gets out of jail soon. That all those prying eyes will once again be looking her way.

 

She's going to bomb the biology test tomorrow morning. She knows it. Staring down at her textbook in the library after school, Betty sitting next to her, who volunteered her tutoring services the second Veronica expressed doubt.

 

“I'll help you study,” offered from pretty pink lips.

 

Being pulled in so many directions, she hasn't had time, and doesn't think one last minute cram session is going to get the job done. It doesn't help she keeps staring at Betty's mouth and they go over the course material. Watching said pretty pink lips form vowels and consonants, explaining cell structure, every word said with underlying encouragement.

 

Veronica sighs heavily, letting her chin down to her chest, this just isn't working.

 

“You okay, V?” Betty asks.

 

Veronica shakes her head but doesn't look up.

 

“Am I talking too fast? Because sometimes I do that, but I-”

 

“It's not you,” Veronica interrupts. “It's just, ugh, life.”

 

She laughs.

 

“I sound so dramatic right now.”

 

Betty's hand reaches to Veronica's chin, lifting it up, before moving to cup the brunette's cheek. Something Veronica leans into easily, a soft smile forming on her lips, her own hand moving to cover Betty's.

 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Betty asks.

 

Veronica shakes her head.

 

“That is literally the last thing in the world I want to do.”

 

“Okay,” Betty replies with a nod. “We don't have to. But, you know, if there's anything I can-”

 

“You're doing it right now,” Veronica insists.

 

“What?”

 

“Being here,” Veronica explains, shifting to kiss Betty's hand in the center of her palm. “Helping like you always do.”

 

She takes pride in the blush her small sign of affection brings, Betty's cheeks now matching her lips, her other hand reaching toward the girl's sweater to pull her closer.

 

“Ronnie,” Betty whispers, tone full of warning. “This is the library.”

 

“The rules say to be quiet,” Veronica replies with a smirk. “As long as we are, I don't see the harm.”

 

Betty shakes her head, but doesn't resist, as they kiss softly as can be.

 

Until the librarian notices, loudly clears her throat, and informs them this is not the place for such things.

 

/\

 

**Anonymous asked: #37 for b/v? :-)**

**37. _“Can I kiss you?”_**

-

They're walking home after Vixens practice, idly chatting about this and that, when the clouds roll in quicker than either of them notice. Betty feels the chill in the air a second before Veronica does, each girl turning to meet each others look, unspoken acknowledgment of a bad omen between them. Just as they're about to start walking faster, the sky opens up, and the rain comes pouring down.

 

Veronica screams, quickly taking Betty's hand in hers, running down the sidewalk as quick as their gym shoes will take them along slick concrete. Lighting flashes above, as Betty cries out, quickly mirrored by her companion. Betty tugs on Veronica's hand, pulling them into the first alcove she sees, swiftly letting go to double over and catch her breath. Not like they needed another work out, having just spent nearly an hour and a half being drilled into the ground by Cheryl.

 

Thunder booms across the clouds, Veronica visibly jumping at the sound, Betty quick to put a hand on her shoulder. They are both soaked, uniforms dripping, hair sopping wet and matted to their faces.

 

“Thank god for waterproof mascara,” Veronica says with a laugh, wiping at her face before moving to squeeze the rainwater from her hair.

 

Betty follows suit, wringing out her ponytail, looking out at the storm that rages around them.

 

“This could last awhile,” she warns, shuddering as the wind whips up.

 

“So we're trapped here,” Veronica replies with dread.

 

“I could call Archie for a ride.”

 

Veronica shoots her a look.

 

“You trust his hunk of junk in weather like this?”

 

Betty shakes her head, but she doesn't have any other options at hand. Her parents out are of town, and Polly lost her phone yesterday, Jughead doesn't drive, so...

 

“We could make a run for it.”

 

Veronica laughs again.

 

“Because the thirty seconds we were in it before didn't leave us drenched enough.”

 

Her teeth start to chatter, and Betty pulls her close without thinking, arms wrapping around the smaller girl with ease.

 

“I know you mean well,” Veronica starts, lifting her head from Betty's chest. “But this really doesn't work when you're as soaked as me.”

 

Betty tilts her head and shrugs.

 

“Sorry.”

 

Veronica doesn't pull back, however, leaving them to cling to each other in this little oasis. Betty lifts a hand to Veronica's cheek, brushing away a droplet, something that brings a curious gleam in the brunette's eye.

 

“Can I kiss you?” Betty asks shyly.

 

It almost feels like a compliment, the way Veronica doesn't hesitate, immediately standing on her tip toes to grant the request. Betty inhales sharply, surprised by the ease of the kiss, a moment she's daydreamed of since they met coming to fruition in the strangest of circumstances.

 

She's not sure how long it lasts, for once not bothering to count the seconds in her mind, but eventually feels Veronica slipping out of her grasp.

 

“Next time,” she offers, pulling away with a grin, thumb stroking playfully at Betty's bottom lip. “Don't ask.”

 

/\

 

**Anonymous asked: #30 for beronica if you can! your blog is literally my go to for beronica btw**

**30. _“One more chapter.”_**

-

One little shift, and Veronica's eyes snap open, the harsh light of her bedside lamp further distorting already sleep blurred vision. Groaning, she buries her cheek further into the Betty's chest, arms giving a soft squeeze as she yawns.

 

“How are you still awake?” She questions, letting her eyes close again.

 

Betty laughs.

 

“Because,” she admonishes gently. “I am usually buzzing with energy in a post coital sense, unlike you, such a boy wanting to pass out immediately afterwards.”

 

“Hey,” Veronica is quick to defend. “I do not appreciate that accusation or implication. Besides, it's hardly my fault you sapped all my energy. Where did you learn that thing with your-”

 

“Bubble gum blowing contests with Archie and Jug as kids,” she interrupts easily. “They were always pretty competitive.”

 

“Mmm,” Veronica hums. “Should I send them a thank you card?”

 

Betty laughs once more.

 

“Please don't.”

 

The sound of a page turning brings Veronica's eyes open again, pausing to adjust to the light, tilting her head just so she can see.

 

“Are you reading?”

 

“Mhmm,” Betty replies. “Lucky for me you left this on your nightstand. Otherwise I might just be staring up at the ceiling all night. Wouldn't have pegged you for a Steinbeck fan, by the way.”

 

“Why not?”

 

Betty shrugs.

 

“Just an assumption,” she gives. “Which I'm sure you'll forgive me for making.”

 

“Lucky you're cute,” Veronica assures. “Put that down and cuddle me.”

 

“I am cuddling you,” Betty insists with a reassuring squeeze of the arm wrapped around Veronica's shoulders. “And reading at the same time. Multitasker Cooper, at your service.”

 

“But I want all of your attention.”

 

Betty looks down at her with a grin. “One more chapter.”

 

Veronica pouts playfully.

 

“Fine,” she sighs in agreement. “But if I fall asleep again before round two, that's on you.”

 

Betty grins.

 

“Steinbeck and boxing metaphors,” she teases. “You are full of surprises tonight.”

 

“You're full of...”

 

The sentence doesn't get finished, as the brunette easily drifts off once more, leaving Betty to kiss the top of her head before turning the page.

 

/\

 

**Anonymous asked: #28 cheronica?**

**28. _“Drive safely.”_**

_-_

The rose drops soundlessly into the water below, as Cheryl wipes away a tear and stares blankly into the rippling current. It's two in the morning, and here she stands on the bridge out of town, saying goodbye to Jason one last time. Her bags are packed and in the trunk of her brother's old car, having not driven it since the tow truck brought it back that fateful day.

 

It's all very dramatic, she thinks. Standing on the side of the road in the middle of the night, engine still running with the headlights on, she can practically hear the voice over of her own movie from above.

 

_What is this girl running from?_

 

Everything and everyone.

 

There's nothing left for her in this town. Maybe, there was never anything here for her at all.

 

No family. No friends. No home.

 

Just a continuing mental breakdown she figures will be righted with some distance put between this place and herself. Heels clicking along the asphalt, she makes her way back to the car, sliding easily into the drivers seat and placing her hands on the wheel.

 

Riverdale's cheesy come back soon sign is illuminated by the headlights, and she can't help but stare at it far longer than feels necessary. Sudden self doubt creeps into determination, and she's second guessing her decision to leave.

 

Oddly, she thinks of Veronica. The one person in town she didn't hate enough not to say goodbye too. The girl who offered a hug in departure, and made her promise to drive safely. That look on her face when Cheryl finally felt brave enough to lean in for a kiss. The surprise at herself for it striking as many emotional chords as it did, or that Veronica had little difficulty kissing back.

 

Touching her lips with a faint smile, she wonders what might have happened if she stayed for more, or if things had been different from day one. Maybe they could have been better friends. Perhaps even dated. Something that no doubt would have ruffled mommy's rather conservative feathers, but deep down, Cheryl thinks she could have been happy. Ridiculously so, having Veronica Lodge on her arm as a girlfriend.

 

Better days, she muses, shifting the car into gear.

 

She honestly has no idea where she's going, but knows, that she will be calling Veronica the second she gets there.

 

/\

 

**Anonymous asked: 84, beronica <3**

**84. _The key is under the mat.”_**

-

“Why am I here again?” Betty asks as they pass the gate, making their way up the gravel drive to the front door.

 

“Because I asked you to be,” Veronica replies, turning to her with a smile. “And you have trouble saying no to me.”

 

Betty mumbles something under her breath that Veronica doesn't catch, but it makes her smile wider, reaching out to grab her girl's hand. They look up at the grand house, dark and ominous on an overcast day, all that needs to happen now is the hooting of an owl or colony of bats screeching overhead. The blond squeezes her hand, not wanting to move.

 

“Suddenly motivated to say no to you now,” Betty says, head still tilted up.

 

“I get that,” Veronica replies. “But a promise is a promise.”

 

“A promise you made,” Betty shoots back. “I really don't see how it applies to me.”

 

“Come on, B. Cheryl is our friend-”

 

“Your friend,” Betty denies. “That girl has hated me since the first grade.”

 

Veronica casts a sidelong glance.

 

“What happened in first grade?”

 

Betty sighs.

 

“The teacher, for some stupid reason, asked everyone to point to the prettiest girl and handsomest boy. No one pointed at her.”

 

Veronica laughs.

 

“Well of course they pointed at you.”

 

Betty is not amused.

 

“Kids are cruel enough, and I tried to tell her she was pretty afterward, but she just told me to shut up then pushed me down.”

 

Veronica lifts Betty's hand to her lips, pressing a small kiss.

 

“It's sweet you tried. Now come on, let's get this over with.”

 

They walk up the steps still hand in hand, both momentarily confused by a note on the door.

 

_Welcome_ , it reads. _The key is under the mat._

 

“Why would the key be under that mat?” Betty questions. “Don't they have a butler?”

 

“No idea,” Veronica answers. “But I have a bad feeling about this.”

 

“Oh my god,” Betty moans. “You did not just say that. That's like, an instant invitation for something bad or weird to happen.”

 

Veronica looks to her and winks.

 

“I hate you,” Betty mutters.

 

Veronica disengages from her and bends down to get the key.

 

“I know you mean just the opposite,” she replies with confidence, inserting the key into the lock, then reaching for Betty's hand again. “And don't worry so much, whatever happens I'll protect you.”

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Anonymous asked: can u maybe do a 7 or 19 for beronica? ♥ thank you**

-

#7  _“I dreamt about you last night.”_

 

Veronica stares blankly down at the lid of her coffee cup. Betty sits at her side in the student lounge, flipping through her biology book because she has as gut feeling the teacher is going to drop a pop quiz on them, and Veronica follows the movement of the blonde's fingers from the corner of her eye.

 

She tries not to think about it, but the flush finds its way into her cheeks off the denial, especially when Betty shifts in her seat and their shoulders brush.

 

“You okay, V?” she asks off Veronica's gasp at the contact.

 

“Fine,” Veronica is quick to reply. “Totally fine. Why do you ask?”

 

It's too many words for a simple question, and earns her a concerned look.

 

“Well, you haven't touched your coffee, which is like red flag number one for you.”

 

“Very funny.”

 

“And reg flag number two, it looks like you didn't sleep very well.”

 

Sleep well is exactly what Veronica did. So well her subconscious mind concocted a scenario where she's never been so happy in her entire life, and only woke up to crushing disappointment that none of it was real.

 

“I dreamt about you last night,” she admits quietly.

 

“Oh yeah?” Betty accepts easily. “What did we do? Take over Wall Street? Save the wales? Get bitten by radioactive insects and become superheroes?”

 

Veronica finally takes a sip of coffee, if only to delay her answer.

 

“We got married actually,” is her response after swallowing. “A beautiful church ceremony, dresses designed by Vera Wang and everything.”

 

Betty laughs, but it does little to relieve Veronica's embarrassment over wanting it as much as she did, though she smiles gratefully at her girl for a kiss on the cheek she receives.

 

“Let's graduate high school first,” Betty offers, before turning back to her text book. “Then you can ask me.”

 

/\

 

_19\. "Can I hold your hand?”_

 

The last light of a setting sun paints the sky in a swath of pink and orange, Betty and Veronica walking side by side down the street, heading home after the first Vixens practice of the new year. They stroll along in comfortable silence, though the typical questions of how they'll do this season carry in the quiet between them.

 

Their hands brush once or twice, Betty almost having the guts to just reach out and grab on the third, but doesn't find the courage. Instead Veronica breaks the silence by suggesting a side trip to Pop's before going home. They worked hard today, and deserve a little treat before tackling the mounds of homework waiting for them.

 

“Sure,” Betty agrees easily. “But, um...”

 

Veronica gives a sidelong glance.

 

“What?”

 

“Can I...” She sighs, head tilting down.

 

“B, what is it?”

 

Betty looks to her like a deer in headlights.

 

“Can I hold you hand?”

 

It's blurted so fast, Veronica isn't sure she hears correctly, brows furrowing in confusion.

 

“Can you have a tan?” She questions. “I don't know, Betts. You're kind of pale.”

 

Betty laughs forcefully, finally just reaching out and taking Veronica's left hand in her right.

 

“Can. I. Hold. Your. Hand.”

 

Veronica looks down at their entwined fingers and smirks.

 

“Well you already are, so why bother asking?”

 

Betty relaxes when it seems like Veronica has no intention of pulling away.

 

“You really didn't have to,” Veronica assures.

 

“What?”

 

“Ask.”

 

Betty mumbles something.

 

“Huh?”

 

“I was just being polite.”

 

This time Veronica laughs.

 

“Well if you ever want to,” she starts, lifting up Betty's hand to her lips and kisses the back of it. “The answer is an open yes.”

 

/\

 

### Got Some Work To Do Now

Because of [@veronicabetts](https://tmblr.co/mhshLwWTP0qgkwxvoKD5baA) 

 

“Remind me how I got talked into this again?” Veronica asks, shining her flashlight on the bars of the entryway, nose upturning at the smell and sight of moisture dripping down.

 

“Talked into nothing,” Betty replies easily, pushing past her partner and toward the rusted gate. “You're here because you're a detective, and detectives follow clues. Clues that lead us here.”

 

“Here being a sure death deep in the bowels of Riverdale,” Veronica mutters, having still not moved.

 

“Ronnie,” Betty sighs, looking back to her. “How many times to I have to assure you sewer gators are not a real thing?”

 

Veronica still doesn't move.

 

“Not an issue,” she assures. “But you know what is? Rats. Snakes. Brown recluse spiders.”

 

Betty shines her own flashlight at Veronica, who throws a hand up to protect her eyes, then turns to pull the gate open.

 

“You coming?” She asks. “Or you want to wait here?”

 

Veronica groans, head titling toward the stars.

 

“Of course I'm coming.”

 

“Good,” Betty states with a nod. “Then follow me.”

 

She slips easily through the gate, but Veronica hesitates another second.

 

“Why couldn't this case just be another down and out amusement park operator?” she laments to herself. “Looking to scam insurance money?”

 

“Ronnie!” Betty's voice echoes through the tunnel. “Come on!”

 

She groans once more for good measure, before passing through the gate, catching up to Betty who is already knee deep in cold brackish water. It doesn't seem to bother the blonde at all, though Veronica again hesitates at the top of the incline leading down, before sighing audibly and taking a few cautious steps in.

 

“This guy just had to be hiding out in a filthy sewer,” Veronica comments. “How are you not disgusted by this?”

 

Despite the dim glow provided by their flashlights pointing away from them, Veronica swears she can see a smile on Betty's face.

 

“It's an adventure,” she responds with vigor, before turning and trudging deeper into the tunnel.

 

The hairs suddenly stand on the back of Veronica's neck, quick to reach for her partner, but the girl is just out of arms reach. She sloshes along, managing to get hold of Betty's elbow, who is about to voice her objection but gets cut off.

 

“We're not alone down here,” she whispers intently.

 

“You're just being paranoid,” Betty replies just as quiet.

 

“If you really believed that, then why are you whispering?”

 

The sound of a rock skittering across the concrete echoes from further down the tunnel, before plopping into the water, followed by a barely audible curse. Veronica relaxes instantly, recognizing whose voice it is.

 

“Josie?” She calls into the dark. “That you?”

 

Both she and Betty aim their lights to where the sound emanated, blinking against a quick flash of movement, and a suddenly reflection of solid black eyes. She hisses against the light, but manages a smile once she recognizes her favorite duo, as she perches nimbly on the edge of a short concrete ledge just above the water.

 

“Girl, how do you do that?” she asks Veronica. “Always sensing my presence like you have radar in your head.”

 

“Undead radar?” Betty chimes in. “Deadar? Never mind, that's terrible.”

 

Veronica looks up at the songbird with a comfortable grin.

 

“What's a nice girl like you, doing in a place like this?”

 

“Same as you it looks like,” Josie replies.

 

“I see,” Veronica accepts. “Then where are Val and Melody?”

 

Josie smirks, which causes Veronica's ire to rise, like she knows something they don't.

 

“Chasing down his accomplishes,” she replies after a moment, pointing at the two of them. “Which you both were aware of, right?”

 

“Right!” Betty is quick to insist. “Totally on top of that.”

 

“Uh huh,” Josie accepts sarcastically. “So, since we're all down here in the hovels, we gonna team up like usual?”

 

Betty and Veronica exchange a look.

 

“Sure,” Betty agrees. “You, um, want to lead the way?”

 

Josie smirks again, before disappearing from view quicker than the pair can blink.

 

“God,” Betty starts with a shutter. “Don't think I'll ever get used to that.”

 

“Yeah,” Veronica agrees with a laugh. “But you gotta love that vampire.”

 

Betty moves to follow Josie, slow trudging through the water.

 

“Come on, V. We've got work to do.”

 

/\

 

### All Fall Down

  
Solace.

 

It's what they inevitably seek in each other.

 

When the bodies continue to pile up, and Archie's paranoia about the man in the black hood becomes manic. When Jughead doesn't realize just how deep in with the Serpents he's in until his debt is neck high and the danger of drowning rises higher. When the promise of a new beginning. lasts all of three days with Veronica's parents, before she finds out about Pop's. When Betty is thrust back on her medication at her mother's insistence, when the blame of Riverdale's continual downturn gets placed squarely upon her shoulders.

 

It begins with texts at three in the morning.

 

_I need you, V._

 

Neither girl able to sleep with residual guilt over their helplessness to save either boy they adore from the darkness calling their names. Or that each one had given eerily similar answers when all the help that was offered them failed. (Don't talk to me, if you don't have the answers I seek.)

 

Betty stares at the moon, leaning against her windowsill with phone in hand, confiding in Veronica as she's never dared in anyone. The girl on the other end easily returning that trust, for the first time in her life understanding the burden it carries.

 

_You always have me, B._

 

 

The ease at which physical assurance comes about is never discussed, because they've held each other in their arms without question or hesitance more than once. Reached over and clasped hands a dozen other times before. But the words are new, as is the sudden intimacy at which they're delivered into each girl's ear. Soft, sweet, and full of a loving confidence. That as long as they're in this together, no task is too dangerous of difficult, and nothing will ever be deemed impossible.

 

Cheryl is the first to notice, teeth gnashed with biting insults, the two obviously swimming together in the sapphic pool. But it's Josie's eyes that shake them, her knowing look that tells they're not fooling anyone, but she's not one to judge.

 

Betty kisses her first, because Veronica had told herself after the first time that's the way it had to be, but is still so incredibly pleased when the blonde finally gains the courage to make such a move. That even though their world's seemed destined to fall apart, they can still have this.

 

_I love you. I want you. I need you._

 

Veronica declares each statement with her arms around Betty's neck, dizzy from so much affection, that her eyes fall closed when her girl responds in kind.

 

Both are remarkably free of guilt at the paring, the boys in their lives having disappeared of their own accord weeks ago. Betty makes certain with her fingers teasing the small of Veronica's back, that noting between them has ever felt wrong, and Veronica nuzzling reassurance into her neck that it never could be. Or that maybe, she could have saved herself some trouble and a little heartache if she'd just been honest after the initial kiss.

 

“It was you,” she admits softly. “It was always supposed to be you.”

 

Betty smiles, though she cannot say the same, but is glad they found their way here anyway.

 

/\

 

**[mysticfells](http://mysticfells.tumblr.com/) asked: "Did you think I wouldn't believe you, or that I just wouldn't care?" for beronica <3**

 

-

 

After Josie and the rest of the Pussycats take Cheryl home, it's just the two of them, Veronica standing with arms crossed and waiting.

 

“Are you going to apologize?” She asks after a moment of silence. “For your little outburst?”

 

Betty feels like she's been crying to for two days straight, eyes constantly red and welling with tears, a fresh set spilling down her cheeks as Veronica looks on expectantly. She hated every single word that came out of her mouth. Ones that have been tossed her way, when defending their friendship, recycled to hurt the lone girl in all the world she loves and isn't related to by blood.

 

Hands clench before she can help it, mouth opening to offer some kind of explanation, but instead she hears that voice in her ear warning of what will happen if she talks. She'd dead if you do, it says. Dead if you move. Dead if I just happen to want it.

 

She feels the skin split on her palms, automatically unclenching as is habit when the blood comes, and does note the lift of Veronica's brow when she notices.

 

“I thought you stopped doing that,” she offers softly, arms dropping to her sides, and taking a step forward. “B, what is going on with you?”

 

Betty sighs, but it comes out more a sob, the pain and pressure beginning to overwhelm. Veronica moves closer, offering a hand to her shoulder, despite any residual feelings of hurt from the day before she still thinks the best of her.

 

“What is it?”

 

“I can't,” Betty replies in a whisper.

 

Veronica pulls her hand back.

 

“Can't or won't?”

 

“Can't,” Betty repeats. “He will...”

 

She slaps a hand over her mouth so hard Veronica flinches from the sound, eyes widening at the nervous wreck her friend has become.

 

“He?” She asks. “He, who?”

 

Betty just closes her eyes and shakes her head, and Veronica is so disturbed she can't help but to wrap the girl in her arms.

 

“Please,” she offers quietly. “You can tell me. I promise. You can tell me anything.”

 

The blonde's shoulders begin to shake, she is so tired of this torment, of this madman making her do all these things she doesn't want to. She's been teetering on the edge of her mental health issues for months already, and this along with skipping out on her medication to spite her mother, is definitely not helping.

 

It's what he really wants, she realizes. To break her. To make her see just how alike they are. That hood covering her face in the reflection, how she wanted to put her hand through that mirror. The feel the pain claw at her skin.

 

“He'll hear me,” Betty offers, her voice barely audible. “He knows everything I say, everyone I talk to. He threatens to hurt them all. Polly. Archie. You...”

 

“Who?” Veronica asks again, though she realizes the moment she asks the question. “The Hood?”

 

“Ssh!” Betty gasps out, finger to her lips.

 

Veronica squeezes her tight.

 

“Betty, is that maniac making you do things?”

 

She nods.

 

“How?”

 

“He calls me. He knows everything about me. Where I am. What I'm doing. It's like he's everywhere. He knows where Polly is. Threatened to kill her. Unless I did what he wanted. Then he kept wanting more. Kept threatening more. If I don't...”

 

Betty stops talking, knowing she's said too much, and god. When did it become so difficult to breathe?

 

Veronica rubs slow circles onto Betty's back.

 

“Did you think I wouldn't believe you?” She asks after a moment. “Or that I just wouldn't care?”

 

Betty looks up at her, eyes imploring how she ever could think such a thing.

 

“I'm sorry,” Veronica is quick to dismiss. “That was mean.”

 

“It's okay,” Betty assures. “I kind of deserve it.”

 

“No Betts. You don't deserve any of this. Not only is this nut job going around killing anyone he decides is guilty of sin, he went extra creepy by fixating his rage onto a teenage girl.”

 

Betty hasn't stopped crying.

 

“I am so scared,” she admits. “That no matter what I do, he's still going to kill everyone I care about.”

 

She lifts a hand to Veronica's cheek.

 

“If he hurt you, oh god V, if he ever...”

 

“Hey,” Veronica starts, covering Betty's hand in hers. “He hasn't. He won't. We can figure this out,”

 

Betty desperately wants to believe her.

 

“How?”

 

Veronica sighs, finding she really doesn't have an answer readily available, and instead presses a kiss atop Betty's hair.

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Anonymous asked: Prompt: "We're not drunk enough for this." for B/V**

-

 

“How long has it been?” Betty asks, glancing over to Archie. “Since it was just you and me on a Friday night?”

 

The redheaded boy answers with only a shrug, ducking his head in guilt at his part in this scenario, knowing it has been quite awhile.

 

“I don't remember,” he admits, somewhat sheepishly.

 

Betty flashes a grin his way, before stretching out her legs from the bean bag chair perched on the floor.

 

“Well,” she replies with a cluck of her tongue. “Shame on us.”

 

Archie nods in agreement, shifting his attention back to the movie they're streaming.

 

“Why is it just the two of us?” he asks after a moment.

 

“Hmm?” Betty hums, eyes actually focused on said movie.

 

“I know Jughead is on Serpent duty,” Archie continues. “But why aren't you out with Ronnie?”

 

“She had a family thing,” she answers easily. “A dinner of some kind. Probably ten thousand dollars a plate, so no Cooper's need apply.”

 

“Oh,” he acknowledges. “So what am I? A back up plan?”

 

It's only meant to tease, but Betty's hand shoots to his wrist, concern radiating from her eyes when he turns to meet them.

 

“No, Arch. Of course not. How could you think that?”

 

“It's like you said,” he replies with another shrug. “How long has it been?”

 

Betty nods with her own guilt.

 

“I guess we both had a lot going on.”

 

“That's true,” he agrees. “New relationships are pretty time consuming.”

 

Betty turns beet red.

 

“You know?”

 

Archie sighs.

 

“I know what everybody thinks, but I am really not that clueless.”

 

“I know,” she echoes.

 

They're quiet a beat.

 

“You seem pretty happy,” he comments.

 

“I am.”

 

“You want to talk about it?”

 

“Okay,” she agrees, shifting in her seat. “But wait a second.”

 

Reaching into the waistband of her jeans, she pulls out a small silver flask.

 

“We're not drunk enough for this,” she starts, unscrewing the cap. “Conversation to continue.”

 

Archie's eyes widen in surprise at this sudden turn of events.

 

“Where did you get that?”

 

“Mom's hidden stash.”

 

“But you don't drink.”

 

“I thought I might start tonight,” comes her rebuttal, before taking a cautious sip and grimacing as the whiskey burns all the way down, before offering the flask up to him.

 

“Why tonight?” he questions, accepting the offer and taking a drink of his own.

 

“Liquid courage,” she answers. “That's what they call it right? Maybe I needed a little help building mine up to tell you about Veronica and me.”

 

Archie passes back the flask.

 

“But look at you,” she goes on, daring another drink. “Already in the know.”

 

He smirks.

 

“Well, I'm glad.”

 

“About what?”

 

“That you were going to tell me.”

 

Betty blushes again.

 

“We just...” She sighs, takes one more sip, and hands it back to him. “Really fit, Archie.”

 

“I get it,” he assures, taking his own drink again. “And I'm happy for you, both of you. I mean that.”

 

Betty rises from the bean bag chair, and Archie doesn't blink when she joins him on the bed, dropping her head to his chest as she wraps her arms around him.

 

“You're my best friend in the whole world,” she offers softly.

 

He slides his arm around her shoulder, giving a small squeeze, as their attention returns to the movie once again.

 

/\

 

**Anonymous said: omg can we have a drabble or fic of veronica reaching into betty's pockets?**

-

The first time it happens, Betty is wearing her pale pink cardigan.

 

She and Veronica are sitting side by side in biology, half paying attention as Mr. DiMartino drones on about how the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell, when Betty suddenly feels something inside her right pocket. Looking down to see it's Veronica's hand, of all things, as she shoots a curious glance to her friend but the girl doesn't appear to realize it's even happening.

 

“Need something V?” She asks in a whisper, which earns a turn of the girl in question's head.

 

“What? Oh.”

 

A shy smile pulls at Veronica's lips, as she quickly removes her head.

 

“I was just craving something sweet,” she replies. “Don't you always have some kind of candy in your sweaters?”

 

Betty smirks a response, rolling her eyes before reaching into her left pocket, and handing Veronica a watermelon Jolly Rancher.

 

The brunette's eyes light up with delight, as she gratefully accepts the offer, discretely unwrapping the treat and slipping it into her mouth.

 

“Why are you the best?” she asks.

 

-

 

The second time it happens, Betty is wearing her baby blue cardigan.

 

She and Veronica are studying in the library, at least they're supposed to be, both girls seemingly glued to their phones upon taking their seats. Mrs. Johnson, the librarian, must be busy in the back somewhere because the automatic reprimand for phones in her library has yet to come. Betty is scrolling through her Facebook feed, when a sudden weight tugs at the hem of her sweater.

 

Looking down, she sees Veronica's hand reaching into her pocket once again.

 

“Got another craving?” she asks softly.

 

“Hmm?” comes the reply, Veronica's eyes still stuck to her phone.

 

Betty gently grabs Veronica's wrist, halting the hand rummaging through her pocket, which finally pulls attention from her phone.

 

“Ask and ye shall receive,” Betty teases, reaching into the opposite pocket, and producing a small box of Lemonheads. She shakes a few into Veronica's open palm, then some for herself, and finally opens the math book she's supposed to be learning from.

 

“You are so good to me,” Veronica compliments, and Betty can't help the blush that comes.

 

-

 

The third time it happens, Betty is wearing her canary yellow cardigan.

 

They're in the office of the Blue and Gold, facing each other in a silent standoff, neither girl quite knowing what to say after Veronica's heartfelt confession. Honestly? Betty is flattered. Mesmerized. Hypnotized. That anyone could put together such a string of words on how she's the most wonderful person in the world, that Veronica could feel it grow inside of her every day they were together, that she's never met a more enticing match in her entire life.

 

Betty wants to say something in return, but finds the words caught in the back of her throat, left there gaping in an awkward pause that shows no sign of breaking. Veronica dares a step closer, and Betty doesn't retreat, so she dares another. Betty has to remind herself to breathe, because air seems to be caught with the words that won't come, and her heart threatens to burst as it pounds so loudly in her ears.

 

Veronica is so close now, Betty can smell the faint hint of jasmine scenting her hair, and all reminders of breathing are suddenly silent when the brunette's hand reaches toward her. Into the sweater pocket it goes, picking the correct one this time, and pulling out the silver foiled chocolate with a strangely appropriate name for the circumstance.

 

It makes her giggle, and the romantic tension is quickly diffused, both girls sharing a laugh as Veronica presses herself into Betty, arms wrapping around each other with ease.

 

“It's probably a little melty,” she informs. “It's been in there all day.”

 

Veronica grins.

 

“What's a reward without a little risk?”

 

Betty smiles at that, pulling back to catch Veronica's eye, hand moving to cup her cheek.

 

“Still craving?” she asks.

 

“Always,” Veronica confirms in a hush.

 

Betty can't stop staring at Veronica's lips.

 

“Are we still talking about candy?”

 

Veronica shakes her head, pushing up on her toes to close that last gap between them, the kiss sweeter than sugar could ever be.

 

/\

 

**Anonymous asked: a beronica drabble expanded from the moment from the finale where v tells b she has a gift for her best gal? cause that would be everything and a half! (only if you want/were inspired to of course)**

 -

Betty's eyes catch Veronica's finger lingering on the top of her gift, eyebrows lifting with her curiosity, giving a warm smile when she lifts the package from the table and hands it over. Betty can't help but give it a little shake next to her ear, laughing softly at the look of surprise on Veronica's face.

 

“What are you doing?” the brunette asks.

 

Betty is confused.

 

“Did you never do this as a kid?” she asks.

 

“Shake a present next to my ear?” Veronica replies. “No. Why, is that a thing?”

 

Betty laughs again.

 

“Uh yeah,” she teases. “Kind of a big thing. Trying to guess what could be inside by the sound it makes?”

 

Veronica shakes her head.

 

“Really?” Betty questions, unable to keep the bewilderment from her voice. “Wow. Um, okay. Moving on, should I open it now?”

 

“No, I want you to wait until Christmas so I can't see your reaction off my well thought out gift.”

 

Betty's brows furrow.

 

“Yes!” Veronica exclaims. “Open it now.”

 

She takes one last moment to appreciate the immaculately wrapped box, before slipping a finger under one of the folded edges, and tearing the paper away. The box itself is stamped with a Bloomingdale's logo, which brings Betty's attention back to Veronica, who looks on eagerly.

 

“You might have gone a little overboard,” she offers, running her fingers over the logo.

 

“I assure you I didn't,” Veronica dismisses. “Now for the love of god, Betty. Open it!”

 

Betty lifts the top of the box off, eyes widening at the sight of a pale blue cardigan folded neatly within, one hand immediately reaching to feel fabric.

 

“One hundred percent cashmere,” Veronica informs. “Nothing too good for my girl.”

 

“It's too much,” Betty is quick to detract.

 

“Nonsense,” Veronica insists, waving her hand. “Now try it on.”

 

Betty draws a breath.

 

“I'm already wearing a sweater.”

 

“Then throw it around your shoulders,” Veronica quickly suggests. “Come on, come on!”

 

Betty complies immediately, grabbing at the shoulders of the garment and letting the box drop to the floor, before swinging it around to rest on her own. Veronica reaches out to smooth the material, down Betty's arms, then tugging at the lapels. A knowing smirk twitches at her lips, brown eyes lifting to meet blue-green.

 

“There,” she says softly. “I knew it would look perfect on you.”

 

Veronica doesn't move, hands to holding onto the sweater, something that piques Betty's curiosity.

 

“V?”

 

“Did you ever?” Veronica begins, eyes dropping down to her hands. “Did you ever want something you know you couldn't have? That you couldn't possibly get, but still thought to put it on your wishlist anyway?”

 

“Yes,” Betty answers. “Once I-” She laughs at the memory. “Asked Santa to bring me true love.”

 

“Oh?” Veronica implores. “Can I ask why?”

 

Betty laughs again.

 

“Because I was five,” she offers with a shrug. “And thought that was something he could put in my stocking.”

 

Veronica's grip on the sweater tightens.

 

“Me too,” she confesses. “Though I believe I was nine when I asked.”

 

Betty smiles warmly.

 

“Guess we're just two peas in a pod,” she states. “Aren't we?”

 

Veronica nods her agreement.

 

“Betty,” she starts softly, tugging on the sweater, tilting up at just the right moment to catch her with a kiss.

 

For a moment it's all wrong, the way Betty abruptly goes rigid, a small sigh of disappointment escaping Veronica's throat. But then the blonde's hands move to cup her face, deepening the kiss before Veronica even has a chance to, and she knows without a doubt it will be a very Merry Christmas indeed.


	13. Chapter 13

**Anonymous asked: don't know if you'd be interested but any chance you could write a drabble of b &v after josie says that ronnie could take betty to her couples massage**

-

Veronica pushes through the door with Betty in tow, approaching the front desk with a serene smile, one that's easily matched by the receptionist.

 

“How can I help you today?” he asks.

 

“We,” Veronica starts, glancing back to Betty. “Are here for the couples special.”

 

The receptionist's eyebrows lift curiously.

 

“The two of... you?”

 

“That's right,” she answers easily. “Is that going to be a problem,” she looks down to his name tag. “Harold?”

 

He looks to Betty, who's only response is folded arms and a tilt of her head.

 

“Not at all,” he's quick to back pedal. “Carol is still setting up, so if you could have a seat?”

 

He gestures toward a row of chairs that line the wall, but Veronica gives him another few seconds of lingering eye contact, before finally conceding to the request. She and Betty sit side by side, while Veronica reaches for a copy of Vogue on the table in front of them that's at least three months old, flipping through the pages with a violent fervor.

 

“I'm sure he didn't mean anything by it,” Betty offers up.

 

“No?” Veronica detracts. “You'd think he's never seen a same sex couple get a massage before.”

 

“But, V. We're not actually a couple.”

 

“Yes well,” Veronica replies, tossing the magazine back to the table. “He doesn't know that. Not that it matters. Or should.”

 

“It doesn't,” Betty agrees. “But try to remember this isn't some Fifth Avenue salon, it's Riverdale. He probably doesn't see a lot of gay couples come in here, and was honestly just surprised.”

 

“Always seeing the good in people,” Veronica says with a sigh, though still glares Harold's way.

 

“Hey,” Betty begins, reaching for her hand and entwining their fingers. “I'd be proud.”

 

Veronica's head turns to her.

 

“Of what?”

 

Betty smiles.

 

“To be yours.”

 

Veronica is left wanting for a reply, because her heart is suddenly beating double time, eyes focusing downward at their hands when Carol the masseuse pokes her head from behind a door next to the desk.

 

“Harold, my three o'clock?”

 

Harold points to Betty and Veronica, which only brings a smile to Carol's face.

 

“Well, aren't you two just adorable?” she offers, before waving her hand emphatically. “Come on back and we'll get you situated.”

 

Veronica enters first, followed closely by Betty, whose head turns sharply to the older woman when a hand is placed on her shoulder.

 

“Everyone seems to think it's redheads who are the feisty ones,” Carol says softly. “But I'm guessing your hands are full with that one.”

 

_Oh, we're not a couple._

 

Betty thinks the statement, but doesn't say it aloud, only nods in agreement.

 

“I knew it,” Carol continues with a grin. “My girlfriend is the same way.”

 

/\

 

**[veronicabetts](http://veronicabetts.tumblr.com/) asked: "can we get a do-over?"**

-

“Wait,” Betty gasps, pulling away from Veronica's kiss like an electric shock. Her arms are still wrapped around the smaller girl's back, pausing to collect herself, as her forehead drops to press theirs together.

 

“What?” Veronica asks, slightly breathless. “Is it too much? Are we moving to fast?”

 

Betty nods against her. She still isn't used to this. To want as much as she does, and have the object of that affection, want her in return. It's self sabotage, really. When things get good she can't help not to trust it. That happiness can suddenly turn into a thing of suspicion, wanting to twist its will against her, so once again she ends up alone and longing.

 

“A little,” Betty admits softly. “I'm just...”

 

One of Veronica's hands shifts from their place around Betty's neck, a finger tracing down her cheek, Betty unable to hold back a smile at the contact.

 

“It's okay,” Veronica assures. “If you want to stop.”

 

Betty shakes her head.

 

“I don't,” she insists. “Really. But I, I mean I just-”

 

“Tell me.”

 

Betty takes a breath, but keeps their foreheads together.

 

“I like you so much,” she starts, knowing without opening her eyes, the statement brings about a smile on her girl's face. “But sometimes it feels, oh this is going to sound so stupid, that I have no idea what I'm doing.”

 

“With me?” Veronica questions.

 

“With you,” Betty agrees. “With everything, actually.”

 

Veronica's thumb lingers on her chin.

 

“Oh honey,” she sighs. “That is some serious self doubt you have going on.”

 

“Sorry,” Betty is quick to withdraw. “Didn't mean to ruin the mood.”

 

Veronica pulls back enough so that Betty's eyes open naturally, her thumb still in place, shifting slightly to tease along Betty's lips.

 

“First of all, you don't ever have to apologize for your feelings. Not to me, or anyone. Second, does this happen to you a lot?”

 

“Not really,” Betty replies. “Only when, I mean-”

 

“B...”

 

“When I'm happy,” she finishes. “I kind of feel like, something in the universe is going to come along and take it away, so I just kind of stand there and let it.”

 

Veronica smirks.

 

“It would take something cosmic to pry me away from you.”

 

The confidence at which the sentence is spoken makes Betty blush.

 

“I adore you Betty,” she confirms. “I can only ask that you don't doubt it. That you try, please try, to accept any happiness I can claim credit for. And if you can't, I will do my best to reassure you.”

 

Betty's heart swells, as she leans forward for a kiss.

 

“Can we get a do-over?” she asks.

 

“Anything,” Veronica affirms, arms returning to cross behind the blonde's neck. “For my girl.”

 

/\

 

**[veronicabetts](http://veronicabetts.tumblr.com/) asked: for b+v: "well, we would make a pretty cute couple"**

-

Archie wanders off, looking awfully pressed for a boy who just walked into a dance with two girls on his arm, but promises to return with punch. Veronica looks around at the decked out gym, her assumption that it would be like every teen movie or TV show she's ever seen, proven correct by store bought decorations and ten miles worth of streamers.

 

Betty is still watching Archie make his way across the hardwood, fidgeting with her hands, which makes Veronica reach out to steady them.

 

“Nervous?” she asks.

 

Betty nods.

 

“A little.”

 

“Is this your first time?”

 

Betty shoots a grin her way.

 

“No, I've been nervous lots of times.”

 

Veronica can't help to laugh, her hand still resting atop Betty's, which she's quick to disengage from when the other girl notices.

 

“I meant the dance,” she continues, suddenly not knowing what to do with her own hands.

 

“Got that,” Betty replies. “I was just, it's from this movie my dad loves. I must have seen it dozens of times growing up.”

 

“Oh,” Veronica responds, chuckling softly.

 

A slow song starts to play, the girls watching as the other students pair up, and sway back and forth on the dance floor. Veronica's eyes dart to Betty, who keeps twisting her head around trying to figure out where Archie went. Which, now that she thinks about it, is a pretty damn good question. It's been well over five minutes since he left, and how could anything be so important, to abandon not one but two girls at once?

 

“Betty?” Veronica offers up, feeling bold and offering the blonde her hand. “Would you like to dance?”

 

The look on Betty's face is telling, that she never expected to be asked such a question, not by present company anyway. Her eyes turn back to the dancing crowd, and Veronica is about to rescind the offer, when Betty shrugs and accepts.

 

Though she might have hesitated at the initial asking, Betty doesn't even blink when Veronica's arms wrap around her neck, placing her hands on the brunette's hips as they begin to move with the music. She's so pretty, Veronica thinks to herself. Archie must not be very perceptive, if they've grown up next door to each other their whole lives, and he's just never noticed.

 

“I don't get it,” she says aloud.

 

Betty looks confused.

 

“Get what?”

 

“How no one in this school seems to realize how special you are.”

 

Wow, Veronica thinks. She must really not be used to compliments, because now it looks as if her dog has been run over, rather than being told she's one of a kind. It's gone from her expression as quick as it came, but Veronica makes a note to pay her as many as she can from this day on.

 

“Thanks,” she replies, her thumbs moving idly on Veronica's hips. “You're so nice to me.”

 

Veronica smiles.

 

“I really like you,” she answers earnestly. “And I want us to be...”

 

Betty's brow lifts curiously.

 

“Friends,” Veronica is quick to finish.

 

“Have you never had one before?”

 

Veronica shakes her head.

 

“Not really. I mean, not like it's supposed to be. I had my girls back in New York, but we would stab each other in the back so frequently. Money and privilege don't include a strong moral compass most of the time.”

 

“Is that what I am to you?” Betty questions. “A compass?”

 

Now Veronica looks confused.

 

“What? No. Huh?”

 

Betty grins.

 

“You're playing with me.”

 

She nods.

 

“Friends do that.”

 

Suddenly Cheryl is there, with her minions in tow, gazing upon their dance with utter disdain.

 

“Still at it ladies?” she scoffs. “Get a room, why don't you?”

 

With that, she stalks off, no doubt looking for her next victims.

 

“I hate mean girls,” Veronica comments.

 

“Because you used to be one?”

 

“Especially because of that.” Veronica sighs. “I think she's just jealous.”

 

“Well,” Betty starts. “We would make a pretty cute couple.”

 

Veronica head snaps to Betty right quick, feeling the pulse jump in her veins, looking into the blonde's eyes for any trace of humor.

 

“Don't tempt me, Cooper.”

 

Betty blushes furiously.

  
All Veronica has to do is pull, one little tug and Betty's lips would be hers again, but the song inevitably comes to an end.

/\

 

**Anonymous asked: can i req a new year’s kiss for b &v?**

-

It is absolutely freezing.

 

Archie's bright idea that they bring in the new year outside. Seconded by Jughead, dismissed by Cheryl, but approved by Reggie and Josie. Betty didn't say anything one way or another, and Veronica was stuck there with everyone looking at her, so only gave a small nod. Now they're all shuffled into the front yard of the Andrews' house, huddled around each other shivering, with everyone glaring at the redheaded boy who is setting up fireworks with Jughead's help.

 

It hasn't snowed for two days, but the ground is still covered with a good amount of powder, enough to where each girl wishes she'd worn something other than heels to the party.

 

Betty is pressed closely to Veronica's side, something Cheryl notices and lifts an eyebrow at, but thankfully keeps any comment to herself. She's got a bottle of champagne in hand, as does Josie, both waiting for midnight to pop the corks. Reggie whispers something into Josie's ear, which only brings Cheryl's ire, but she still remains quiet even when the girl laughs and swats at his shoulder.

 

Two minutes to go, when Betty's hand slips into hers, Veronica's head quickly shifting to the blonde who looks at her expectantly.

 

“I always loved new year's,” she says softly. “Mom and Dad would let us stay up late, bang on pots and pans with the clock struck midnight.”

 

Veronica smiles, the image of an eight year old Betty running around her living room making tons of noise, to the dismay of an overbearing mother flashing in her mind.

 

One minute, when Betty turns so that they're facing each other, her breath visible on the air but all Veronica can do is stare at her lips. Oh, she thinks. Hello.

 

“Thirty seconds!” Archie shouts, as he and Jughead begin to light the fuses.

 

From the corner of her eye, Veronica can see Cheryl and Josie lift their respective bottles, while Reggie stands off to the side letting out a few early cheers. Betty doesn't look at anyone but her.

 

“Ten seconds!” Archie informs.

 

They all begin the countdown, when Betty's free hand lifts to Veronica's cheek, and though she hadn't made any resolutions one suddenly forms inside her mind. _I will do everything I can to make you happy._

 

The clock strikes midnight as bottle rockets shoot off into the night, with Josie and Cheryl's champagne cork popping almost in sync, and Betty Cooper closes the gap to kiss Veronica Lodge on the dawn of a new year. The gang keeps whooping it up, no one really looking at the two of them, and Veronica can't help but throw her arms around the taller girl's neck.

 

“Happy New Year, Ronnie.” Betty says into her ear, after breaking the kiss, but quick to keep her in an embrace.

 

“Happy New Year, Betty.” Veronica replies, wanting nothing more than to kiss her again.

 

/\

 

**Anonymous asked: OMG that gifset of B looking at V dancing with Archie at the party- I would die for a drabble with jealous B going off and accidentally admitting her feelings**

-

A sick feeling to swirls inside her stomach at the sight of it. The two of them dancing so close, like Johnny and Baby, when she finally let her inhibitions go. To watch everyone lose themselves to the drugs affect, while she constantly plays miss goody two shoes, sitting on a chair in the middle of it all. Her heart pounds inside her chest, because a single thought keeps repeating itself inside her mind every time Archie's hands pulls her closer. Every time he makes Veronica smile.

 

_It should be me._

 

Her hands clench so tight, she expects the familiar feeling of skin splitting beneath her nails, but stops when realizing it's what the darkness inside wants from her. To be lonely and miserable. So it can spread into her veins like a plague, make her do things only nightmares ever made seem possible, what the voices whisper in her ears when the pills don't work.

 

She rises from the chair slowly, taking paced but deliberate steps toward them, though no one seems to notice. The song isn't one she's familiar with, but catches the rhythm eventually, putting herself in front Veronica and matching her moves as best she can.

 

Archie doesn't even realize she's there at first, head buried into the crook of Veronica's neck, but the brunette's eyes widen when Betty puts hands on her hips. They grow bigger still, when Betty slides them around further, gently cupping her backside to pull away from Archie's grasp. The boy's head lifts then, finally noticing his best friend has joined the party, brows creasing in confusion as to why she might be trying to cut in.

 

“Betty,” Veronica starts, her voice barely audible through the music.

 

The blonde pays her no mind at first, eyes meeting his, the silent confrontation of an unspoken rivalry for Veronica's affections she doesn't think he realized were there until this moment. One he understands is lost, when the brunette throws her arms around Betty's neck, pulling away from him completely. They dance, twirl, and sway together. Perfectly in sync in so many ways.

 

When Betty kisses her, it isn't soft, or sweet.

 

Her lips claim Veronica's for Queen and country, declaring to everyone in the room, that from this day forth Veronica belongs to her.

 

Then, just as suddenly as the bravery presented itself, it recedes. Pulling back from the girl, and feeling the eyes of everyone on her, that sick feeling comes roaring back.

 

“I'm,” she starts, words frozen in her mouth. “S-sorry. Oh, my god. Ronnie. Archie, I'm so-”

 

She doesn't finish the sentence, turning and fleeing from the room, the door bursting open from her eagerness to escape. She makes it almost all the way to the elevator, when Veronica comes chasing after her, hand catching Betty's elbow just as she feverishly begins to press the call button.

 

“Betty,” she says, pulling on her elbow.

 

“I'm sorry,” Betty repeats, keeping her eyes focused on the doors.

 

Veronica's grips loosens a bit, but her free hand reaches up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind Betty's ear.

 

“For what?” she asks. “The kiss?”

 

“The kiss,” Betty agrees, head turning slightly. “The dance. Practically stealing you from Archie.”

 

Veronica laughs, and Betty thinks it must be the drugs, when the elevator opens and she's pushed inside. There's no hesitation on Veronica's part, pinning Betty against the wall, kissing her as if it's all she's ever wanted to do.

 

“Wait,” Betty manages to gasps between kisses. “What is happening? We shouldn't-”

 

Veronica's eyes find hers, pupils pinned, but emotions intensified by the jingle jangle.

 

“You finally get the guts to make a move,” she teases. “And now you want to stop?”

 

“Archie-”

 

“Knows it's been you from day one. Also knows you were never going to do anything about it, at least not until today. Sure he had a little crush, and I've had every flavor of boy but orange, but we both know where our feelings stood. The only one who didn't, was you.”

 

“V-”

 

“It's okay,” Veronica insists. “I want you back. I want-”

 

Betty cuts her off with a kiss, and keeps on kissing her, only stopping when the elevator dings its arrival to the lobby.

 


	14. Chapter 14

**thy lips are warm**

-

“You kissed Archie.”

 

Betty's back is to the door, she didn't even hear Veronica come in, but her hands suddenly clench at the notebook atop her desk. She straightens up slowly, turning to face her friend, who waits patiently with arms crossed.

 

“Veronica-”

 

“It's okay,” she dismisses easily. “He explained. Heat of the moment thing, right? I mean, a couple of high school kids chasing down a serial killer, it had to be.”

 

Betty nods.

 

“It was.”

 

Veronica takes a step closer.

 

“And it was a one time thing? He said the two of you didn't even talk about it. That you never will.”

 

The apology is caught in Betty's throat, as she takes a breath, thinking it might jar the words loose. Despite the fact that she doesn't feel particularly sorry, the act itself nothing to warrant one, both she and Archie suddenly single. His strength and assurance they could end it all, the circumstances of that night throwing caution to the wind, their second kiss ever literally one before dying.

 

“We haven't,” Betty agrees. “We won't.”

 

There's something in the way Veronica is looking at her, as if she's become a rival, and doesn't quite know how to process it.

 

She takes another step.

 

“It was really nothing,” Betty offers.

 

“Of course it was something,” Veronica rebukes with a wave of her hand. “The two of you is every will they/won't they romantic cliché ever written.”

 

“V...”

 

“It's okay,” she repeats. “It was a moment. I get it. But please, don't stand there and tell me it meant nothing to you.”

 

Betty finds herself fidgeting with her thumb, eyes casting down to her shoes.

 

Veronica steps closer again, now just an arm's length away.

 

“Was it everything you dreamed it would be?” she asks softly, her hand reaching for Betty's.

 

Their eyes meet.

 

“Was it better than me?”

 

Betty inhales sharply. How many kisses is she going to experience in her life that can never be discussed? Veronica's fingers slowly interlock with hers, gaze expectant, and that's when the realization comes forth.

 

Veronica is jealous, obviously. But not for the reasons one would (naturally) assume. It's nothing to do with the girl next door finally kissing her lifelong crush in a heated moment, rather that he had the audacity to kiss back.

 

“Veronica-”

 

Fingers find themselves teasing along Betty's lips, her eyes following intently, as if looking for a mark Archie could have left behind.

 

“Was is sweet?” she asks.

 

Goosebumps dot Betty's skin, as her eyes flutter closed.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

Veronica laughs softly.

 

“Looking to see if he's still there. Because I... After he told me, I could feel you on him. When we kiss, it's your lips I feel. And when I close my eyes, you're the one I see.”

 

Betty's eyes snap open.

 

“We can't.”

 

Veronica's smirks.

 

“Of course we can't.”

 

She doesn't pull away.

 

“Oh Betty,” she sighs. “Don't you wish we could?”

 

/\

 

**Anonymous asked: I wouldn’t complain if you wanted to write Betty slamming Veronica against a locker while she’s in her river vixen uniform**

-

Betty sighs, folding her sweater neatly and placing it onto the shelf of her gym locker. She does not feel like practicing today, let alone being berated for her lack of focus, which Cheryl is bound to latch onto with the first steps of a routine. She considers sneaking off to the office of the Blue and Gold, but her uniform is already on, and somehow doesn't think she can't get away with slinking through the halls in full dress.

 

A flash of movement from the corner of her eye, brings focus to Veronica, who has one foot lifted to the bench and is tying her shoe. It's telling, that she notices Veronica goes for the bunny ears method over the one loop wrap, more than the flash of thigh brought on by her raised leg. It does register the second said thought is finished, color flushes into her cheeks instantaneously, smoothing out her skirt as if the action will wipe the sight from her mind.

 

It doesn't help when Veronica finishes tying her shoe, that she uses her position to begin a mild stretch, and her skirt rises to the point where Betty's eyes are now caught staring at the brunette's spankies.

 

“Ugh,” Veronica laments. “I do not feel like going out there today.”

 

Betty understands the words being spoken, but finds a reply caught on the tip of her tongue, because she can't seem to tear her eyes away.

 

“Y-yeah,” she manages after a cough, throat suddenly feeling so dry, the stuttered response bringing Veronica's attention toward her with a raised eyebrow.

 

“Something on your mind, B?” she asks with a smirk.

 

Betty's hands clench, though not in that familiar way, suddenly so tense she just might scream.

 

Instead she steps over her own bench, and the one Veronica leans on, pulling the girl up from her stretch and pushing her against the lockers.

 

“Whoa,” Veronica gasps, taken not by the force of the action but the suddenness of it, laughing playfully at the intensity in Betty's eyes. “Easy tiger, we've got practice in five minutes.”

 

Betty only shrugs.

 

“That enough time,” she offers.

 

“Enough time for-”

 

Veronica doesn't get to finish her sentence, lips claimed as the taller girl's hands move to cup her face. Betty makes a note that Veronica doesn't seem to mind when she's a little rough, in fact the way she can't stop laughing against her mouth, says she thoroughly enjoys it.

 

/\

 

**chat noir**

-

“Can I ask your name?”

 

The question hangs between them, as she slowly tucks the black strands behind her ears, eyes piercing through the screen.

 

“Madeline,” she answers after a moment.

 

“Pretty name,” comes the reply. “For a pretty girl.”

 

A slow smile pulls at Madeline's crimson lips, head ducking in a false shyness.

 

“Thank you.”

 

Another pause in conversation.

 

“So,” the girl's voice continues. “Where do we go from here? Full disclosure, I've never really done this before.”

 

Madeline leans back in her seat, fingers spread along her collarbone, with a smirk meant to tantalize.

 

“Tell me what you want,” she offers. “What you most desire.”

 

The girl in the monitor's eyes widen just a bit, as Madeline tilts forward again, fingers drifting down to tease along the skin.

 

“Don't you want to tell me?” she asks. “Baby?”

 

The girl pulls in a shuttering breath.

 

“I-I...”

 

Her eyes close in embarrassment.

 

“It's okay,” Madeline coos. “To be nervous. This is your first time after all.”

 

Her eyes open again.

 

“I want to kiss you,” she all but blurts, the words rushed and clumsy, her cheeks a furious red.

 

Madeline bites her lip.

 

“I'd like that,” she complies.

 

“Yeah?”

 

Madeline nods.

 

“You look like a good kisser.”

 

The girl laughs nervously.

 

“I'm alright.”

 

Madeline stares at her intently.

 

“Pucker your lips for me.”

 

The girl blinks.

 

“What?”

 

Madeline grins.

 

“You want to kiss me, don't you?”

 

The girl nods.

 

“So, show me what I'm working with.”

 

The girl does as she's told.

 

“Closer.” Madeline commands.

 

The girl's brow furrows.

 

“I'm sorry?”

 

“Lean closer,” Madeline reiterates, voice stern. “To the camera. I want to see that pretty little mouth pout.”

 

The girl's chest rises and falls with insecurity, and it takes nearly ten full seconds, but she does as she's told.

 

“Mmm,” Madeline hums. “That's a good girl.”

 

The compliment makes the girl blush again, chin touching her chest in a true shyness.

 

“How bad do you want to kiss me?”

 

The girl mumbles something.

 

“What was that?” Madeline asks sharply.

 

“So bad,” the girl repeats. “More than-” She sighs.

 

“Tell me.”

 

The girl's eyes lift back to the camera.

 

“More than anything,” she repeats intently.

 

Madeline's tongue runs along her lower lip.

 

“Don't you wish you could?”

 

The girls voice is a faint whisper.

 

“God, yes.”

 

Madeline poises her chin in hand.

 

“Is that all?” she wonders. “Because there's more we could do. So much fun we can have...”

 

A series of rapid knocks on the door, kills the moment dead, Madeline's eyes pulled swiftly to it.

 

“I'm sorry sweetie,” she apologizes to the girl. “Looks like our time is up.”

 

Madeline pulls the wig from her head, quickly tucking it under the desk, before rising up to grab the bathrobe laid across her bed, covering herself and the lingerie she wears. Then wipes furiously to remove the lipstick with the palm of her hand.

 

“Again?” Her mother asks incredulously. “Betty, why do I have to repeat myself about locked doors in this house?”

 

Betty sighs, and can't help to roll her eyes.

 

“What were you doing?” Alice wonders, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

 

She offers and outstretched arm toward her computer.

 

“Face time with Veronica,” she fires back. “If that's alright with you.”

 

Her mother takes a few steps into the room, eyes shooting to the laptop and girl onscreen, mouth dropping slightly because she didn't expect the truth.

 

“Hi Mrs. Cooper,” Veronica says in greeting.

 

Alice folds her arms.

 

“You need to lock your door for that?”

 

Betty only shrugs.

 

“You have a terrible habit of barging in on conversations that don't concern you.”

 

Alice sneers.

 

“I'd watch that tone if I were you,” she huffs, but turns to exit the room without another word.

 

Betty closes the door once she goes, then returns to the chair, and gives Veronica a nervous smile.

 

“That was close,” she offers.

 

Veronica laughs in agreement.

 

“Too close.”

 

They're both quiet a beat.

 

“So,” Veronica begins. “Is this session effectively ruined? Or should I pucker my pretty little mouth again?”

 

Betty grins, pushing the robe from her shoulders, and letting it fall to the floor as an answer.

 

 

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Anonymous asked: "I hope I don't forget this by the morning." for b/v**

-

“Ronnie!” Betty greets with a goofy grin. “Heeeeey.”

 

Veronica gives a placating smile in return, shaking her head, never having seen her friend cut loose in such a way.

 

“Hey yourself,” she returns, kneeling down to where Betty sits with limbs splayed on the floor. “Have a little too much to drink?”

 

That grin is still on Betty's face, as she holds up her thumb and index finger.

 

“Little bit,” she admits. Her head tilts at Veronica, curious. “How did you find me?”

 

Veronica reaches out, fingers teasing under Betty's chin, which brings about a cat like sound from the blonde.

 

“Cheryl,” she answers, pulling her hand away, but moving to take a spot on the floor as well.

 

Betty takes an audible breath.

 

“Really?” she questions. “That's weird. She's... weird.”

 

One of Veronica's brows lifts at the statement.

 

“Weird how?”

 

The grin fades into a frown, Betty's chin dipping to her chest.

 

“Because she hates me.”

 

Veronica is about to deny that, but Betty carries on.

 

“She hates me,” she reiterates. “But then she like,” Betty waves her hands around. “Tells you where to find me when I'm wasted and gonna pass out on the ground. Or, um, telling me about why a lying cheater face my dad is. And, and...”

 

Betty sighs, her head tilting to the left and pulling the rest of her body with it, right into Veronica's side.

 

“She hates me,” she says again. “But, but then sometimes she's nice.”

 

Veronica puts an arm around her, as Betty's head nestles easily between her neck and shoulder.

 

“I'm sure it's not true,” Veronica tries.

 

“It's is,” Betty mumbles. “Is. It's...” She sighs.

 

Veronica rests her cheek against Betty's hair.

 

“What am I going to do with you?” she asks. “Can't leave you here. But I'm not strong enough to pull you outside when you're so-”

 

“So what?”

 

“Shit faced.”

 

Betty gasps.

 

“Language!” she admonishes.

 

Veronica only laughs.

 

“My apologies.”

 

Betty pulls up suddenly, which causes Veronica's head to snap back, against the wall with a loud bang.

 

“Oh!” Betty exclaims. “Sorry! So sorry!”

 

Veronica hisses against the sting, her hand immediately reaching for the spot of contact, tender under her touch.

 

“Fine,” she's quick to dismiss. “I'm fine.”

 

“No really, really sorry.”

 

Betty presses a clumsy kiss against Veronica's temple. Then another on her cheek. The brunette can't help but hold her breath waiting for the inevitable, and her eyes flutter closes when Betty's lips find hers. She lets herself have it for three blissful seconds, before remembering how inebriated her friend really is and pulls away.

 

A noise of disappointment emits from Betty's throat, Veronica's eyes opening to see a pout on pink lips, as she reaches up to caress her cheek.

 

“Do that again when you're sober,” she offers softly. “If you want.”

 

Betty is quick to nod, that goofy grin coming back into play.

 

“I hope I don't forget this by the morning,” she says.

 

Veronica smirks.

 

“Me too.”

 

/\

 

**Anonymous asked: "person a gives person b massage" for b &v**

 

-

 

Betty grunts in discomfort, which instantly grabs Veronica's attention, who watches on as the blonde presses a hand to and rolls her left shoulder.

 

“You okay, B?” she asks in concern.

 

Betty looks back to her with a rueful grin.

 

“Mary Ellen didn't really wait until I was ready to catch her,” she answers, still moving the shoulder. “I might have pulled something.”

 

That bitch, Veronica curses inwardly. With brows furrowed, she takes a step closer.

 

“Here,” she offers, pulling Betty's hand away and replacing it with her own. “Let me.”

 

Betty smiles in appreciation, her cheeks coloring slightly at their closeness, and Veronica notes how her free hand clenches when she flattens her palm against the sore muscle. She makes Betty straighten her left arm all the way, pulling it gently past her hip, as she begins to work measure circles into the shoulder.

 

Betty hisses against the sudden fire in her nerves, biting her lip to keep from crying out. It fails the desired result when Veronica hits the knot causing all the pain, as the blonde gasps and pitches forward, only held upright by her right arm bracing against the lockers.

 

“Sorry,” Veronica is quick to apologize. “I can stop if you want.”

 

Betty shakes her head.

 

“No, it's okay,” said in a rush.

 

“You're sure?”

 

Betty nods.

 

“It feels really-” She groans when the knot really begins to loosen, resting her forehead against the cool metal. “Good,” she manages to say through the relief, taking in another harsh breath.

 

Veronica smiles to herself, working the muscle until Betty finally says enough.

 

“Better?” she questions, stepping back as Betty rolls her shoulder again to test it.

 

“Much,” Betty agrees, turning around to face her, something shifting in her eyes. “Thanks.”

 

The hairs on the back of Veronica's neck rise off the look.

 

“Anytime,” she assures.

 

When Betty kisses her, she takes back what she thought about Mary Ellen.

 

Tomorrow she's buying that girl a coffee.

 

/\

 

**Anonymous asked: hey! can i get a choni drabble? i don't have a prompt, but anything will do! tysm**

 

-

 

Hungry kisses from greedy lips.

 

With affection radiating off of her in waves. Ooey, gooey gumdrops of sickly sweet love, from a heart barricaded by fortress walls.

 

Toni can barely keep the breath in her lungs, with the way Cheryl keeps taking it from her, those pale arms nearly strangling as they cling so tightly. The soft, desperate want, that comes with mewling noises emanating from her throat.

 

“Hey,” she manages to gasp, between another barrage of kisses. “Slow-hey, slow down.”

 

The girl recoils instantly, shame all over her face, as if a pause of any kind if immediate rejection. A confirmation this is all one fantastic mistake. Toni manages to catch the front of her sweater before she pulls away completely.

 

“I didn't say stop,” she offers softly. “Just...”

 

A hand moves to caresses Cheryl's cheek, but doubt still shines in the redheads eyes.

 

“Relax, okay? This isn't a race. Let's just try to enjoy the moment.”

 

Cheryl's lips curl into a sneer, those jagged edge reflexes coming into play, but Toni's fingers tease along her chin.

 

“Don't build me up so fast, baby.”

 

She pulls Cheryl back down.

 

“I like to take my time.”

 

It's a sight to behold, witnessing whatever it is inside Cheryl Blossom, slowly uncoil at her mere suggestion.

 

“There,” Toni notes, a hint of pride in her voice. “See?”

 

Cheryl nods.

 

Toni's hands encompasses her face, closing that final gap, ruby red lips giving the sweetest of smiles before they're claimed again.

 

/\

 

**Anonymous asked: hey! can you do another choni drabble? maybe where the serpents find out they're dating?**

 

-

 

Sweet Pea isn't happy. Fangs doesn't look like he cares one way or another. Jughead is confused.

 

“You and Cheryl?” asked in that tone of his, always bordering on judgment and sarcasm. “Are what, dating?”

 

“Not officially,” she answers with a shrug. “But yeah, I think something is there.”

 

Sweet Pea clucks his tongue, fist banging on a locker but he won't look at her, when she turns toward him with an arched brow.

 

“Got something to say?” she asks.

 

He just shakes his head.

 

“Come on,” she chides. “You're not shy, Sweet Pea. No sense in pretending you are now.”

 

“Really?” he asks, finally meeting her gaze. “Of all the pretty Northsiders in this school, you pick the one rich bitch who's been trying to kick us out from day one?”

 

Toni has so many defenses at the ready. That Cheryl isn't always like that. That there are reasons, not excuses, for her behavior. A broken home is a broken home, no matter which side of the town line you reside on, and despite Cheryl's annual net income (which is nothing now) she's really no better off than any of them. That she hurts, just as anyone would, in an abusive situation she can't seem to escape.

 

She can't say any of it to them. It's not her place to share what she's learned, and really, by the looks on each one of their faces they wouldn't care anyway. In the end she locks eyes with all three, the stern glare telling in that there is nothing more to discuss.

 

“I'm doing this,” she states evenly. “Whatever it turns out to be. You don't have to understand. Hell, I don't expect you to. But you're going to accept it. That means no catty comments. No judgmental stares. Whatever.”

 

No one has a rebuttal, but Sweet Pea holds her eyes longer than the other two, when he finally nods she turns to take her leave.

 

/\

 

**Anonymous asked: hey! so i gotta ask for more choni. maybe them walking through the halls of Riverdale High, finally a couple ?**

 

-

 

Reggie Mantle is a douche bag of the highest order.

 

Of course Toni knew that from day one. Even if the girl currently at her side, once stood at his, declaring to the entire school that she and her crew were not welcome. Funny how quickly things can change. How that girl, is now her girl, yet there stands Mantle gawking at the two of them.

 

He looks downright disturbed that Cheryl is holding her hand, traitor radiating in his gaze, though the word is never uttered. That is, until his mouth curls into a thin smile, and eyes now turning toward lecherous. Ugh. Boys.

 

He's about to say what his body language already screams, when Cheryl cuts him at the knees with a wave of her hand.

 

“I don't want to hear it Reginald,” she's quick to dismiss. “No one in this sheltered little town ever bats an eye, when Betty and Veronica walk down these very halls, arm in arm.”

 

They're about to pass him by, when Cheryl uses her free hand to give a little shove for good measure.

 

“So save whatever perverted thoughts or comments you might have, for when you're alone, and feel free to never tell me just what you do with them.”

 

When they do pass him, he shockingly doesn't say a thing, and when Toni casts a glance back he still doesn't have a comeback at the ready. Only a befuddled glare, like he can't believe Cheryl Blossom just got the best of him.

 

“Dating you is never going to be boring,” Toni states, as they round a corner, giving a little squeeze of their hands. “Is it?”

 

Cheryl keeps her eyes straight ahead, but her smile beams under Toni's gaze.

 

“Fasten your seat belt darling,” she warns. “It's going to be a bumpy ride.”

 


End file.
